


Tobirama aus: Problematic snippet collection

by Writingfish (idraax)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Incest, Mokuton Bondage, Somnophilia, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-10 01:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 41
Words: 29,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idraax/pseuds/Writingfish
Summary: A self-indulgent snippet collection.Please read all warnings and notes before readingAlso, these may never get finished, so if you feel like expanding on any of them, please feel free to!Also, concrit's fine if you wanna leave it. Just be aware that thesearesnippets and so naturally don't have a lot of trappings that an actual fic would have.





	1. Hashi/Tobi/Mada 1

**Author's Note:**

> Au notes: Hashi/Tobi/Mada in which Hasi & Mada are in an existing relationship and Tobi is unsure of who he's jealous of, so he withdraws from both of them and pretty much disappears into village administration and experimentation. Then, Madara wakes up one day and realizes that no one has seen Hashirama's brother in a long time, so he starts checking up on him. 
> 
> Then, Hashirama gets involved and fast forward to some time later, Madara is like oh shit I'm in love with your brother too. And then, Hashi has the brilliant idea of seducing him bc Tobi clearly isn't taking care of himself, so other people should do it for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au notes: Hashi/Tobi/Mada in which Hasi & Mada are in an existing relationship and Tobi is unsure of who he's jealous of, so he withdraws from both of them and pretty much disappears into village administration and experimentation. Then, Madara wakes up one day and realizes that no one has seen Hashirama's brother in a long time, so he starts checking up on him. 
> 
> Then, Hashirama gets involved and fast forward to some time later, Madara is like oh shit I'm in love with your brother too. And then, Hashi has the brilliant idea of seducing him bc Tobi clearly isn't taking care of himself, so other people should do it for him

He put the papers down and stretched. His eyes caught the calendar on the far wall, with dates circled in red. Weekly family dinners that he had stopped attending. He had felt like the third wheel and well, he doubted that his brother or Madara had noticed.

His heart ached at the thought. The wound still fresh. Jealousy and envy twisted within him and he closed his eyes and took a slow, careful breath. Even after all this time he still wasn't sure who he was jealous of. His brother, _Madara_?

Forcefully, he shook his head and rose. That line of thinking always made him feel like he had been stabbed.

He opened the door and stopped. He blinked, then cast out his senses. Madara's fire-ash chakra blazed in front of him. It held traces of sunshine-wood, recent ones. He must have been with Hashirama recently. It was also distinctly angry.

Tobirama frowned. The anger felt unusual, shaded with a flavor he couldn't name. He ignored it, leaned against the doorframe instead.

"Can I help you?"

Madara stared at him, frown deepening.

"No one's seen you in _months_ ," he snapped. "What the hell have you been doing in there?"

"Experimenting," Tobirama said blandly. "Is there an issue? All the paperwork is getting done."

Madara stared at him. His chakra shifted almost feeling concerned, but that couldn't be right. What reason would Madara have to worry about him?

One of his hands reached up to pinch his nose as he sighed. Then, he stepped closer and grasped Tobirama's arm.

"Come on, we're late for dinner."

Tobirama blinked at him, but allowed himself to be dragged from the doorway. What was going on?


	2. Hashi/Tobi/Mada 2

Tobirama stopped as they reached Madara's house. His brother's sunshine-wood blazed. It flickered with something that felt a lot like nervousness, but what would Hashirama have to be nervous about?

Madara glanced at him, dark eyes sending prickles of sensation across his skin. Inwardly, he groaned. This was _exactly_  why he had been missing dinner for the past few months.

He raised an eyebrow at Madara and tried to convey his impatience.

"Are we going in?"

Madara's gaze didn't waver and he shifted underneath the wait.

"Anija must be getting impatient?"

There was still paperwork he had to finish. If he left now, he could have it all done before the morning. It would mean he'd have to give up some hours of sleep, but it would be worth it.

Madara turned the doorknob, still holding his gaze. Tobirama resisted the urge to shuffle his feet like a naughty child as Madara pulled him into the house.

"Guess who I brought to dinner," he announced as he pushed Tobirama into the kitchen.

His brother's face lit up and Tobirama squinted. It was like looking at the sun.

"You made it! I'm so happy."

Hashirama lifted his arms and then something flickered across his face. He glanced at Madara who shook his head subtly. Momentarily, his face dipped into a frown before brightening again. He dropped one arm and used the other to gesture at the table.

"Sit, sit! Dinner is almost done."

Tobirama frowned inwardly at the byplay. This was one of the reasons he kept avoiding the two of them. He always felt like a third wheel.

Madara let go of his arm and immediately he felt cold. He kept his eyes on the table as he moved to take a seat. Behind him, Madara's fire-ash chakra merged with his brother's sunshine-wood. They must have been kissing.

He resisted the urge to turn around and watch, focused on the wood of the table instead. It was stained, nicked and even dented in several places. An image bubbled up, made his cheeks heat. He squashed it down. Took a breath.

"What experiments are you working on?"

Madara sank into a chair opposite him and Tobirama took the offered opening to launch into a description of his latest experiment.


	3. Hashi/Tobi/Mada 3

Madara stormed into Hashirama's office, carrying a stack of papers and frowning.

"When was the last time anyone saw your brother," he demanded.

Hashirama gave him a blank look over his own stack of paper. It was almost to the top of his head.

"What?"

Madara rolled his eyes and stepped further into the office, shutting the door behind him.

"Your brother? The one with white hair and facial tattoos. About this high" - he gestured somewhere above his head as he dumped his papers on Hashirama's desk- "I went to his office but he wasn't there."

Hashirama blinked, then scowled.

"I know who my brother is," he said, indignant. "I saw him-"

He paused, frowned and reached for the calendar on the left of his desk. Madara rolled his eyes again and placed a hand on his arm. He rubbed the skin on the wrist in small circles.

"Don't bother," he said. "He missed the last few dinners we had scheduled."

Hashirama moved his arm away only to grab his hand and tangle their fingers together.

"Aww, you miss him!"

Madara sputtered, yanking his hand away. Hashirama pouted and reached for it. He pulled it back, stepping out of his lover's reach.

"No, I don't. _You_  do. You were moping about it last week."

Hashirama's eyes went very wide and watery as he rose from his chair to grab Madara's shoulders.

" _Madara_ , you do care!"

Reluctantly, Madara hugged him back, a small smile on his face. 


	4. Hashi/Tobi - Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hashirama's Mokuton showcases his feelings and Tobirama tries to ignore his  
>  ~~And I try to get rid of mine by sublimating them into fic~~

He saw his brother in the market and immediately ducked behind the nearest stall. The seller gave him an amused look and grinned as he put a finger to his lips. Tobirama sighed and ducked further behind the watermelons as his brother came up to the stall.

"Hello," Hashirama said to the seller. "Have you seen my brother this morning?"

That was his queue to move. Quickly, he bolted for the nearest stall, ducking behind a row of silks. It wasn't as if he _wanted_ to hide from his brother, but his brother had been acting strange all week.

His Mokuton was getting out of control, sprouting all manner of flowers whenever Tobirama walked by. His brother kept blushing too, embarrassment probably, but it was still a strange expression on him. Then, there was the hugging.

Tobirama was not much of a hugger. The Senju knew this, his brother even more so. It had taken forever to train his brother out of hugging him at the drop of a hat, but he had been reverting back to old habits recently. It was strange and what was stranger was the fact that he didn't actually mind. It just made it difficult to go about his day to day activities with Hashirama pressing up against him every few minutes, that was all.

So, here he was, hiding among the stalls in the market in hopes that his brother wouldn't find him. He wanted a few moments to breathe, to calm down and put his feelings back in the dark pit to which they belonged. There was no place for them, there never was.

Eventually, his brother moved on. He could feel his chakra receding into the distance. It felt upset and he sighed, leaned back against the wood of the stall wondering what to do.


	5. Hashi/Tobi - Feelings 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tobirama tries to decipher the meaning of the flowers that bloom on him.

It wasn't until the Globe Amaranth had sprouted from the ground and curled its way around him that Tobirama decided to look up the meanings of the flowers that his brother had sprouted. Strangely, his brother had looked at the flowers before paling and freeing him from them.

He slipped a blossom into his pocket while his brother was distracted and quickly made his way to the library. The Yamanaka had given an entire section's worth of books on flowers to the library when they had been invited to Konoha. There would be something about the round purple blossom in there.

He gained a few odd looks as he pulled out several books of flowers off the shelves, but the librarians were used to him coming in and researching odd topics. Last week, he had taken several books on beetles that the Aburame had donated.

He flipped through them, noting the pages where several of the other flowers his brother had grown appeared. He'd go back to them, once he found out the meaning of this particular flower.

 _Unfading love_  said the book. It also said _immortality_ , but that wouldn't have caused his brother to pale and avoid him for the rest of the day. Hashirama had gotten quite good at hiding from him. Tobirama didn't know how to feel about it.

It was good for a shinobi to be difficult to find, but this was his last remaining _brother_. He wanted to be able to sense his brother's chakra and make sure he was safe. Something else bubbled up, darker and far more possessive. He pushed it away, squashed it down. Those feelings were inappropriate.

He looked at the other flowers. A lavender star, Agapanthus, meaning love letter. There was no secondary meaning which was interesting.

Another was a blue flower with buds that looked like small balloons. It meant both endless love and that the return of a friend was desired. That was surprisingly deep for his brother.

He paused on the page, frowning. Did his brother _miss_ him? They weren't around each other as much due to their respective village duties, but they made an effort to have dinner with each other at least once a week. Perhaps, he should look into spending more time at home when his brother was around.

He put the books aside, feeling something akin to guilt as he glanced at the clock. It was late, but if he hurried, he could still make it in time for dinner. His brother was sure to be home since he had probably finished all of his paperwork. Hashirama knew he wouldn't bother him if he was in his office doing paperwork, so that was probably where he had been hiding all this time.

He rose from the table, made sure to re-shelve all of his books in the proper places and headed out into the sunset.


	6. The Past is Best Left Untouched (implied csa, read with caution)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Senju Butsuma was more of a monster than a father. When Uchiha Tajima kills him, Senju Tobirama decides that the Uchiha can't be that bad after all. 
> 
> WARNINGS: implied csa

"Why can't you two _get along_  for once," Hashirama asked despairingly as he slumped over his desk. One of the stacks of paperwork listed to the side and Madara barely managed to catch it before it tumbled to the floor.

Madara scowled in Tobirama's direction.

"And _why_  should I get along with someone who hates me?"

Tobirama frowned, straightening a stack of paper on the opposite side of the desk.

"I don't hate you," he said. "I don't feel anything in particular towards you actually."

Madara growled and gestured broadly to all of him.

" _See_. How am I supposed to get along with someone as cold as _that_."

Part of Tobirama, a very small part, wanted to be insulted by that. However, that part of him had long ago been subsumed by the perfect soldier that his father demanded he be. There was no room for anything else.

Hashirama groaned and tried to further sink into the table. He spoke, voice muffled by the wood.

"I _know_  Tobi can be cold. He's too much like our father that way, but try for me, _please_."

His gut twisted at the mention of their father. Senju Butsuma had never been a father to him. He had been a nightmare.

His hands tightened into fists and he took a long, slow breath. A mention of that man shouldn't affect him as much, he was long dead.

_A whisper of a name that wasn't his in the night. Dull, throbbing pain that had him hissing between his teeth. The back of his father walking away._

His nails dug into his palms, tore at skin. He had to leave, figure out what had brought up the memories and lock it away. He looked up, mouth opening.

Madara was watching him. There was no expression that Tobirama could read in his gaze except curiosity and the ever-present warines, but there was _something_  about his body language that sent his heart jumping.

"Why _don't_  you hate us," he asked.

Tobirama didn't know what answer he was looking for. He was _tired_. He didn't want to play whatever game Madara wanted him to and his brother's discussions of peace with the Uchiha were wearying. It was all he talked about these days and Tobirama just wanted the brother that would pull him into the woods to show him his latest discovery _back_.

"Your father did me a favor," he said quietly. "It meant that you couldn't all be terrible."

His brother, no matter how air-headed he appeared, was smart. Tobirama saw him straighten up and decided it was time to leave. He didn't want to be around to discover what conclusions his brother drew from that statement.

Branches burst from the doorframe, blocking it off.

"Tobirama," his brother growled, " _why_  was killing our father a favor?"

Madara froze from his position beside the desk. Tobirama froze too, halfway to the door. Hashirama was looking at him, branches sprouting from the desk beneath. Anger leaked out of him, like poisonous sap from a tree.

He closed his eyes, searched his mind for any sort of lie to throw his brother off the scent. It would only hurt his brother to know the truth.

" _Tobirama_ ," his brother said again and Tobirama knew there was no way out.

He closed his eyes, dredged up the dark and spoke.

"You were lucky you know," he said softly. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the expression on his brother's face when he broke.

"You looked more like _him_  than mother."

There was a long silence. Tobirama hoped he wouldn't have to explain because the words were clogged in his throat as heavy as a mountain. He hadn't told _anyone_. Who would have believed him?

The killing intent that flooded the room was unexpected. He snapped his eyes open, instantly taking a defensive position before his mind sorted out where it was coming from. _Both_  Hashirama and Madara were generating it. His brother he could understand, but Madara?

He felt his brother move but still jumped as a large, warm hand on his shoulder gently turned him around. Hashirama's eyes searched his face before pulling him into a hug.

He blinked, unsure of why his eyes were wet. Hashirama's arms were warm around him, strong like the trees his brother grew and he leaned further in, let his eyes close. It had been a long time since his brother had hugged him this carefully. It was nice.


	7. Hashi/Tobi - Feelings 3

It wasn't until the roses had sprouted from his chair and bound him to it, that Tobirama realized what was going on.

He stared up at the ceiling, currently blooming with red tulips, and groaned. For the past few days, he had woken up to his bed sprouting vines that curled around his feet and wound their way up his legs. It was quite obvious what their destination was and perhaps he had misinterpreted his brother's look when he had found him in such a state.

His brother had been avoiding him ever since, though the furniture hadn't stopped trying to feel him up. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. All the furniture contained his brother's chakra and he seemed to be developing an embarrassing response to it. People were starting to notice. He had caught Madara giving him suspicious looks during their last meeting when Tobirama's chair had started to sprout purple pansy buds and had started curling its branches around his legs.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by thorns pricking his throat. The roses were wrapping around his neck like a collar and he should really escape before anyone walked in. He tried to move his arm and the vines tightened. Thorns pricked his flesh and he gasped as he felt them retract.

A vine slithered under his shirt. Smooth and somewhat cool, it brushed against one of his nipples before curling around it and squeezing. He made a sound, bit it off as he felt a chakra signature coming towards him.

The vine dipping into his pants distracted him and his eyes went wide as it draped itself over his thigh to curl around-

"Tobi? _Oh my god_ "

His brother's voice.

Tobirama snapped his eyes to the doorway, feeling his face burn. His brother was standing there, gaping. He was clutching a file in his hands. It was tearing at the edges.

They stared at each other until the vine around his cock decided to start moving. He arched up with a gasp as it caught on skin. In the doorway, Hashirama made a strangled sound.

"Shut the door," Tobirama managed to gasp. The last syllables dissolved into a moan as the vine in his shirt squeezed.

Hashirama did so, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. His eyes were still wide, dark at the edges. He bit his lip, raised a hand and made a curling motion with his fingers. Immediately, the vines crumpled. Tobirama gasped at the sensation, eyes flickering shut.

His brother strode forward to yank the vines away from him, flinging them across the room.

"I'm _sorry_  Tobi," he said, hand hovering over the pinpricks in his neck. Tobirama blinked at him slowly, still trying to process the changes in sensation.

"I lost control," his brother said starting to back away. Tobirama reached for him, barely managing to catch a wrist as his brother pulled back. "I never meant-"

"My chair bloomed roses," Tobirama said, shakily getting to his feet. "I know what roses mean."

His brother's face fell and on impulse, he snatched up one of the roses that was still attached to the chair. He stumbled forward, thrusting the rose forward into his brother's face.

"I feel the same," he mumbled.

He could feel his own face flame. The tips of his ears were hot and he looked at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was currently sprouting mistletoe.

Well then.

He lifted his head, gripped his brother's face with his hands and kissed him.


	8. The Past is Best Left Untouched 2

  
"Husband," Mito said coming down the stairs and into the kitchen, "why is your brother in our bed?"

Hashirama, who had been staring into space, turned to slowly look at her. Protective rage shot through her at the look. Her husband had never looked that distraught before.

"I didn't want to leave him alone," he said quietly. "He fell asleep on me. He's never done that before."

Her husband drooped, looked like one of the weeping trees that they had back on the island. His fingers moved along the grain of the table and she could see him blink back tears.

"I'm a terrible brother," he whispered.

Mito sighed, stepping further into the kitchen and heading for the stove. The kettle was next to it, still filled with liquid. She tossed it out, filled it with water and set it on the stove.

She looked back at her husband, who was staring at the table with his shoulders shaking. Chrysanthemum, she decided heading towards the cabinets.

They didn't speak as she prepared the tea and poured it into the cups, setting one before Hashirama. Her husband picked it up, traced the edges slowly. She took a sip of her own, focused on the burn as it went down her throat.

"What happened?" She broke the silence when it was clear that Hashirama wouldn't speak.

Her husband put the cup down and told her in a quiet whisper of what had happened in his office. Of Tobirama confessing the reason why he did not hate the Uchiha. It seemed that the only thing Senju Butsuma had done right was arranging her marriage to Hashirama.

She stayed silent throughout, sipped her tea and let the protective rage wash over her. There were seals used in Uzushio to ward off nightmares. She'd make a stack of them, infuse them with all the chakra she could spare. Her brother-in-law deserved good dreams.

"And I told him he was like father," Hashirama whispered, slamming the cup loudly on the table. They both froze for a moment, listened intently to the quiet house. It stayed quiet and they both relaxed a little.

Mito drained her cup, then rose to collect his. She placed them both on the counter before walking back to him and placing one of her hands on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault," she said quietly. "You didn't know."

"I won't do it again," Hashirama swore. His other hand reached up to cup her wrist. She entangled their fingers together sinking into the chair beside him,

"No, you won't," she agreed.

She rubbed his knuckles as they fell silent. Hashirama slumped onto the table, breath hitching. She pretending not to hear, squeezing his hand whenever his breathing sounded too much like sobbing.

"What do I do" he whispered eventually.

She squeezed his hand again, pulled him in for a hug.

"We be there," she said firmly as Hashirama looked at her in surprise. "He is _family_. We support family."

She would never get tired of how her bright her husband's smile looked.   
  



	9. Hashi/Mito/Tobi - Soulmates

Uzumaki Mito always knew there was something missing in her soulmark. It was a budding tree with bare roots surrounded by a large wave. It covered her right shoulder and she often traced it, in the mirror, when she was alone, contemplating who the pieces could belong to.

The tree would be someone sturdy, she decided, while the wave would be someone who would sweep her off her feet and give her all sorts of adventures. Much, much later, she found out she wasn't quite accurate in her assumptions.

She found her first soulmate when she got married. Senju Hashirama was a breath of spring, sweeping her away with his ideas and dragging her into the plans he had for the village he was creating with his best friend. He reminded her of the wave. But, he was also steady, unwavering in his convictions and Mito wondered if she could have two soulmarks for the same person.

Hashirama looked utterly delighted when she mentioned her mark, showed them it to him on their wedding night. He too had a similar mark, a large wave that encircled a rocky island with a hint of something rising from it. It was even in the same place!

She didn't contemplate their third soulmate for a long time, too busy with helping her husband build the village. It wasn't until Madara snapped at Tobirama about not having a soulmate because he had no heart, that she considered the topic once again.

"He has a smear where his soulmark should be," Hashirama told her in a whisper as his eyes flickered to the ceiling. Tobirama had come home before them and locked himself in his room. He hadn't responded to Hashirama's calls.

She frowned, absently reaching up to touch her own mark. Soulmarks faded when a soulmate died, but she'd never heard of anyone having a _smeared_  soulmark.

"He thinks he's _broken_ ," her husband said sadly. There was a cup of sake in front of him. She wondered if it was _actually_  full of sake or if it was full of tears instead.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed.

She'd look into it, she decided during the silence. A smeared soulmark was highly unusual and well, Tobirama was one of her favorites. (A small part of her also wondered if this was why they hadn't found their third.)   
If there was any way she could help......

She wouldn't tell her husband. No need to get his hopes up.


	10. Retired Sith Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is in the problematic collection because I haven't decided who I want to pair Tobi with. My first thought is Hashi, but then I'm like Tobi/Naruto could be fun, so idk. Enjoy, retired Sith Tobirama being confused about who the hell just landed on his planet.

The world around him in blank and empty in a way it has never been before. There is no presence for miles. He slumps on the ground, shaking. The space around him is dead and it is a relief.

The Nightmare lands were similar, he remembered. Dark and misty with water dripping from trees, but they weren't empty. This planet, somewhere on the Outer Rim, was.

He cast his senses out and the nothingness he received soothed him. He'd have to cast a barrier, mask his presence, but once he was done the Sith wouldn't be able to find him here. He could rest, retreat into himself to try and put the shattered pieces of his memories back together. He wanted to find out what that sunlight-earth feeling was and now he had all the time he needed.

* * *

 

Time passed, days, months. He managed to remember some of his early days. He had siblings, had lived on Teth, knew all sorts of little details about himself, but still didn't remember what that sunlight-earth feeling was. It pervaded his memories and he thinks he can feel it even when he's awake.

A faint boom sounds in the distance and suddenly there is a feeling of sunshine-wind blooming in the emptiness. He gasps as it sears his nerves, topples over from the sheer force of it. It is warm, _alive_  and should not be here.

Time passes. He's not sure how long he has been drowning in the presence, but when he pulls himself back together, the broken sun is high in the sky. He picks himself off the ground. His robes are in disarray, but he doesn't bother to dust them off. This planet was dusty; they'd get messier.

The presence is east, so that is the direction in which he heads. It doesn't take him long. He tracks his progress by the visible stars.

The blazing red one, his constant companion, finally falls away as he approaches the large crater in the ground. There is smoke rising from it and he can hear the sound of coughing.

"How's it looking Kurama," a voice calls. It's young, hoarse and worried.

There is another presence that he hadn't sensed before, a deep-fire-wind that doesn't jangle on his senses as much. It's soothing compared to the other one.

"Not good," came another voice. It was deep and rumbling, bringing to mind a tall forest.

"The thrusters are gone and I don't want to stay here for long with that presence I sensed."

Quietly, he moved closer. A light-class freighter sat in the middle of the crater. One of its pincers had a large hole in it. And there was smoke coming out of its back.

Footsteps on rock made him turn, tense. He didn't have a weapon. His lightsaber had been broken by Darth Sepsis when he had escaped from Korriban.

_Red sand concealed his trail of blood as he staggered away from the temple. The force around him churned, scraping raw against his nerves as the temple buzzed with activity behind him._

A male Cathar stared at him in surprise as he shook the memory off. His blue eyes, so different from the black in his memories, widened and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Kurama, I found the presence."

There was a sputtering sound and then a red, crystal fox appeared on the lip of the crater. It narrowed its eyes as it took him in and he tried to look as non-threatening as possible. These people were interesting and he didn't want to scare them off.

The fox, Kurama, hissed as it stepped towards the Cathar.

"Naruto," it whispered. "We need to leave. That is a _Sith_."

"Retired, actually," he corrects, bowing. Both of them stared in shock. He was forgetting his manners. They didn't even know his name!

"Hello," he said as politely as he could. "I am Tobirama."

The Cathar, _Naruto_ , blinked at him before introducing himself and his partner. They had apparently been shot down by an upset client and had just barely managed to crash on Tobirama's planet before their engine had overheated.

He wasn't surprised that they had managed to land. His barrier had only kept force signatures on this planet from being detected. Perhaps he should change that after they left.

"I _may_  have some parts from my own ship left," he said. He had taken the ship apart after he had landed here on this nameless planet. Most of them were currently being put to use as his house.

"That sounds good," Kurama said. "There might be something in there that we can use."

Beside him, Naruto nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He felt his lips curl up as he turned his back to them, picking his way over the rocks with ease. His home wasn't far. There was an odd sound behind him, but then Kurama appeared at one side and Naruto on the other. They reminded him of something, a memory. A good one.

 

 


	11. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: suicidal thoughts in this one, implied csa
> 
> In which, Izuna died and things get worse before they get better.

"Why can't you two _get along_  for once," Hashirama asked despairingly as he slumped over his desk. One of the stacks of paperwork listed to the side and Madara barely managed to catch it before it tumbled to the floor.

Madara scowled in Tobirama's direction, the Sharingan bleeding into his eyes.

"In case you forgot," he said in the angry tone Tobirama was growing used to, "he _murdered my brother._ "

Tobirama couldn't forget. Madara hissed it every time they met, though mostly out of Hashirama's earshot. His brother looked bewildered, face falling into confusion.

"But-"

Madara slammed the papers on his brother's desk. They went flying everywhere. A proposal on a new medical system smacked him in the face and he removed it, looking intently at the page as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

"His blade was _poisoned_ ," Madara spat. "The wound wasn't fatal, but it got infected. Izuna died because he had the gall to poison his blade."

He spun to look at Tobirama, angrily pointing at him with a trembling hand. It was clutching the latest tax reports, Tobirama noted, absently.

There was a dark void opening within him. He thought he had drowned it beneath paperwork and other village duties, but it still ached at the strangest moments.

" _You_ should have died in place of Izuna."

It crept into his heart, squeezed it with thorns. He could feel the blood pool in his chest. His brother jolted upright, chair falling to the ground behind him.

" _Madara!_ "

"If you wanted me dead," Tobirama snapped, "you shouldn't have given him the choice that day by the river."

Madara's whispers had chipped away at him, had dug into the wound that had opened up that day at the river when Tobirama realized that his brother would always put his dreams before his last remaining brother. They kept reminding him that the one who destroyed his nightmare was gone, murdered by his own hand.

"What," Hashirama said quietly, looking between them. His chakra stilled, like the ground before an earthquake. Tobirama could feel himself cracking open. His walls shattering.

He wasn't needed. His work could be done by someone else, _had_  been done by someone else whenever he was on missions. Why was he still around? His only brother didn't want him, had made it clear that he would choose the village over and over again.

Madara didn't want him either, constantly reminding him of the death of his savior. He was becoming a nightmare too and sometimes, Tobirama woke from dreams and didn't know which one he was dreaming of.

There was absolutely no reason for him to remain. Surely, he had something in his lab that could -

"Tobirama never puts poison on his blade," Hashirama said quietly. "He spars with me using it. He wouldn't risk it."

"I wouldn't," Tobirama said quietly. He was _tired_. He wanted to go to his lab, brew some belladonna and let the world permanently slip away. It was fine, no one would miss him.

"Izuna _saved_  me," he explained. The words stuck in his throat, came out clogged. It was unfortunate that his brother had to be around for this conversation. He had never wanted Hashirama to know what Butsuma had done. But, it couldn't be avoided. Madara should know the truth.

"He destroyed my nightmare," he continued. The thorns in his heart grew, spread, dug into his lungs and crawled up his throat. He could almost hear Butsuma's voice, calling him by the wrong name, whispering about how strong their children would be.

"I didn't want him dead," he said from a slowly closing throat. Both Madara and Hashirama were giving him strange looks. He took a step back, shrank into himself. The looks hurt, digging deep into him.

A footstep, the sound of Mokuton blocking the windows, the door. His breath hitched, his heart jumped. There were roots around his feet. His brother was in front of him and he couldn't bear the gaze.

"Who was your nightmare," he asked as if from a distance.

A single berry would do, he thought as his vision darkened around the edges. He forced himself to inhale, aware that his brother had asked him a question.

"Tobirama"

"Butsuma. He said I looked like mother," he whispered and let the world steal the rest of his senses. 


	12. Hashi/Tobi/Mada 4

Madara stared at him, papers hanging limply from his fingers. His hair looked like it was absorbing the light, still staying black even though it was in a direct sunbeam.

"You want me to seduce your brother," he said eventually, slowly sounding the words out as if that would make it real.

Hashirama frowned at him. "Of course not."

However, before Madara could relax, he added on, "not _alone_."

"What?"

Hashirama grinned at him, reaching over to trap one of his hands between both of his. The paperwork dropped to the floor, spreading its way underneath the desk.

"I'm not going to let you have all the fun."

Madara sputtered, bending over to pick up the papers that had disappeared under Hashirama's desk. He had a nice ass, Hashirama thought. He was sure Tobirama would appreciate it too.

"I _like_  my brother," Hashirama continued, oblivious to the way Madara jumped and swore underneath the desk. "I want to spend more time with him and that means helping you."

"How," came Madara's grumbled voice.

"I can use the Mokuton," he offered. "I've always dreamed of tying him up and having my way with him."

Madara swore again and there was a suspicious thud underneath his desk. Hashirama smiled. Madara would come around to the idea. No one could resist his brother for very long.

There wasn't any jealousy at the thought of them together. Hashirama could imagine it, dark and white entangled together....he lost himself to it, only coming back when Madara cleared his throat. He looked a little red and Hashirama's grin got wider.

"Do you have a plan," Madara mumbled.

Hashirama had many plans. He had started planning this the moment he had first seen Tobirama look at them with longing. Madara started to look concerned and Hashirama grabbed his hands.

"I have so many," he breathed. He couldn't wait to get started.


	13. Retired Sith Tobirama 2

  
"I need you to check him over," Naruto said, shoving a skinny Ratataki with white tufts of hair, towards her. "He's been on this planet without _any_  food for Force knows how long!"

Sakura frowned, a little disgruntled at Naruto not bothering to greet her. He did this with every stray he brought in, though this was the first time he had brought a humanoid to her clinic on Taris.

She ignored him and greeted the Ratataki instead. He nodded back at her, looking a little baffled. She could sympathize. Naruto was like a whirlwind, sweeping people off of their feet and leaving mass confusion in his wake.

"Name," she asked, getting out the scanner and waving it over him.

"Tobirama," he said quietly. His voice was a little hoarse, as if unused to talking for large periods of time. Understandable, if he really had been alone like Naruto implied.

Her scanner beeped and she scanned its results. Her eyebrow rose and kept rising as she noted several nutrient deficiencies, but absolutely no other issues.

"Force user?"

"He's a former Sith," Kurama said from his position on the counter, near the door. Sakura hummed. Being a force user explained how the nutrient deficiencies hadn't really affected his system. Then Kurama's sentence finished processing.

" _Former Sith_?"

"I retired," Tobirama said mildly, leaning over to see the scanner.

"You can do that?"

She angled the scanner towards him. He had a right to the results.

Tobirama shrugged, eyes growing distant. She'd seen that look on her mentor's face before when she got lost in old memories.

"Not without difficulty," he said at last. She wondered what he remembered, but set the thought aside to pull out a piece of holofilm. She wrote up a prescription for several nutrient supplements along with instructions on when to take them and handed it to him, sidestepping Naruto's grabby hands.

"You need nutrient supplements," she explained. "You're deficient in a lot of things. If you take those, you should be back to health in no time."

"I'll make sure he takes them," Kurama said, padding over to jump up into Naruto's arms. Naruto staggered at the weight, complaining.

"Good. Do you need a checkup?"

Kurama flicked his tail in answer.

"Not today, thank you."

She shrugged and left them alone. Ms. Yamanandra was next and her appointment would take forever.


	14. Hashi/Mito/Tobi - Soulmates 2

Senju Tobirama knew he didn't have a soulmate. There was a large black smudge on his right shoulder where his soulmark should be. It was the reason why he stopped looking in the mirror.

The clan constantly whispered about it, when they thought he couldn't hear. But, he was always there in the background, could sense the fluctuations in their chakra whenever he passed by. _Soulless_ , they called him.

He closed his ears to it. Buried himself in his research, in the war. Soulmarks didn't matter when their clan was dying day by day.

However sometimes, in the quieter moments, he resented his brother. Hashirama had a lovely soulmark and when they were younger, he couldn't take his eyes off of it. A large wave, the bluest he'd ever seen, surrounded a rocky island, with the faintest hint of brown rising from it. It almost seemed like it was _sheltering_  the island, something he'd always wanted to do for his brother.

It never really faded, the resentment. In fact, it only grew when Uzumaki Mito married his brother. He _wanted_  that, wanted to find someone who understood him just as well as his brother's wife understood his brother.

Thankfully, he was able to bury it. He tossed himself into planning Hashirama's village instead, threw himself into writing treaties and creating the Academy where students from all clans could learn together. It wasn't until Madara snapped at him about being heartless that it came back.

He tried to bury it again, threw himself into village administration until his brother dragged him out of the office with his Mokuton.

Then, he woke up to Mito asking to see his soulmark.

"It looks like tattoo ink," she said thoughtfully. His shirt was off and it should have been awkward, but it wasn't. Mito, though she had something dark in her eyes, was professional, tapping his mark with a gloved hand and watching it react to various seals she placed on it.

"Let me do more research," she said eventually. "I have a theory."

Tobirama nodded. She probably wouldn't find anything. He hadn't after all.


	15. [read summary first] The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Rape, descriptions of rape
> 
> In which, Senju Hashirama is as much of a monster as his father was.
> 
> For Alasse_m who was encouraging. This is not likely to be continued. Also, since I stuck with Madara for this snippet, he (like me) has no idea what is happening.

Madara stood in front of the door hearing the loud slap of skin behind it. He knew what was going on in there, had heard it before. It made his stomach twist, his throat burn. Disgust seared through him, stuck his feet to the floor. The sounds continued.

He wanted to leave, should leave. But his feet wouldn't move, his body trapped. His mind was screaming. Tobirama _knew_  he was there, yet he didn't stop his brother. Did he _like_  the fact that Madara could hear them? That it disgusted him?

The sounds stopped, were replaced by harsh panting. Were they done? He needed to leave before either of them saw him.

"You're just like father," Tobirama whispered, voice rough. Madara's eyes burned, were on the verge of activating his Sharingan.

"But," Tobirama continued, "I think I liked him better. At least he pretended I was someone else. Pretended I was mother."

The ever-present fire in Madara sputtered, went out. His breath stilled, his muscles went lax.

"You _want_  this," Hashirama whispered into the silence. There was a sharp, soft cry and then, Tobirama's voice.

"I _don't_ ," he said, "but for the village, I will."

A laugh, dark like the forest at night.

"Good boy"

For a long, endless moment, Madara saw red.

Then, the fire sparked, blazed into an inferno. His eyes _burned_ , hands already making signs for a Katon. The world seemed sharper than before. The dark hallway suddenly clear as day.

He exhaled. Fire lit up the hall, burnt the door to a crisp. It seared the wooden tendrils already rising in defense. He burst into the room, chakra lashing out with the force of sun.

" _Get off him!_ "


	16. Hashi/Mito/Tobi - Soulmates 3

 

Senju Hashirama missed his third soulmate. He and Mito were good together, but there was a gap between them. He could feel it especially when Mito opened her mouth to talk to him about her seals, then shut it again. He felt bad for not being as interested in her work as he would prefer, but it all went over his head.

In the same way, she wasn't interested in his plants. Sure, she let him grow them in the house, but he couldn't chatter excitedly over crossbreeding new species. That wasn't to say that they didn’t have other things, like their love of cooking, in common though; it's just that there were gaps. They each had needs the other couldn't fulfill.

He knew who he wanted their third to be. Had never stopped hoping. But as the years passed, his brother's soulmark remained a smudge and his hope began to wither.

Tobirama would be a perfect third. He got along well with Mito and he had been Hashirama's since the day he was born. He listened whenever Hashirama spouted theories on plants, listened to Mito talk about seals and they listened to him talk about the village, about his less complicated experiments. He really wanted it to be Tobirama.

But, not even Tobirama's seals and experiments could alter the smudge that was his soulmark. He had watched his brother spend days and days locked in his rooms trying to alter or remove his soulmark. He had shown up to dinner several times with bloody bandages wrapped around his right shoulder.

He had stopped his attempts when the village was created, had thrown himself into its administration and created so many things like the ninja system. Then, Madara brought up his soulmark and Hashirama had never felt angrier at his best friend. He had barely managed to heal his brother's wounds after his last attempt; he didn't want him to start again.

Then, his wife, lovely, _smart_  Mito came to him with a theory. He immediately agreed, let her mark his skin and test her seals; anything for his brother. Then, it happened.

His latest tattoo, an ugly scrawl that looked vaguely like a log, melted off his skin and pooled on the floor in a puddle of black ink. He and Mito stared at the unblemished skin it left behind, stunned.

"It worked," Mito whispered, turning to him with a large smile. He could already feel happy tears welling up in his eyes and smiled helplessly back.


	17. The Past is Best Left Untouched 3

Izuna cursed as he stirred the rice. It was burnt at the bottom. He had used too little water _again_.

“Heh,” he said. “I bet it’s still better than that bastard’s. Cooking requires heart, something he doesn’t have.”

“You would be wrong about that,” his brother said quietly from the doorway. He turned at the tone. He hadn’t heard his brother sound that distraught since their brothers had died.

He dropped the spoon. Madara’s eyes were red-rimmed and he was staring at Izuna with sheer _relief_. He slumped in the doorway, hands limp at his sides.

“Aniki?”

He stepped over the spoon, quickly made his way to his brother. Madara reached out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder and slid it up to settle on his neck. Izuna had the strangest suspicion that he was checking his pulse.

“What happened?”

Madara dropped his hand, slumping forward until his head rested on Izuna’s shoulder. He sighed. Gingerly, Izuna reached up to pat his back.

This was unusual. Normally their relationship consisted of slaps on the back, elbows in each other’s guts and kicks to the shin. They weren’t _gentle_  with each other.

He activated his Sharingan, scanned the room. Nothing.

“Aniki,” he said again, “what _happened?_ ”

Madara swallowed, tensed.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you,” he said quietly.

Izuna frowned. They didn’t keep secrets from each other, not the important ones at least. And this _was_  important, his brother’s reaction proved that.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said.

“Promise”

Izuna’s stomach swooped. Whatever story Madara had to tell him must have been _really_  important. Madara rarely made him promise things that weren’t along the lines of keeping himself safe.

“Yeah,” he said, “I promise.”

Madara told him.

The world darkened for a moment, tinted red. Izuna gripped his brother’s back, feeling him breathe into his neck. It explained _so much_  about his rival. About why he was so cold, pretended he was heartless.

Izuna would have to work very hard to make sure there wasn’t a change in his behavior. He was already seeing Tobirama in a different light and he just _knew_  that Tobirama would take it as pity if he ever found out why.

The smell of burning reached him, jerked his eyes back to the stove. The onion was burning. He set all thoughts of Tobirama aside as he gently pushed his brother off and set about seeing what he could salvage of dinner.


	18. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 1 (2)

Hashirama slumped in the chair, shaking. Madara let his eyes slide off of him. The least he could do after all those revelations was to give him _some_  form of privacy. They found Tobirama instead.

He was curled into himself, surrounded by Hashirama’s wood. The wood moved as he did, sliding carefully over him in order not to wake him. Madara wondered if it was Hashirama’s chakra that kept him asleep, compliant. He shook the thought away.

Hashirama’s chakra probably felt safe. Madara had done the same with Izuna’s, had focused on it enough to feel safe and finally fall asleep.

_Izuna_

Izuna, who Tobirama looked ready to cry talking about.

“He destroyed my nightmare,” Tobirama had said in a voice thick with tears. He had been shaking. Madara could still remember the details, even without the Sharingan.

The angle of sunlight as it withdrew from the room, the way Hashirama had gripped the desk, knuckles pale with the strain and Tobirama trying _so hard_  not to break apart but collapsing anyway.

He swallowed hard, looked back at Hashirama whose shoulders were still shaking. He wasn’t making a sound, but Madara could see the tears dripping onto the wood.

“He never meant to tell me,” Hashirama whispered eventually. He was still looking at the desk. It was splintering beneath his grip, branches sprouting from it. The wood around Tobirama, however, remained as it was. Madara marveled at the control. He couldn’t do that with his Katon.

He wondered if it had been Izuna if he would have told _him_. His veins chilled, the fire in him dimming as he realized that the answer probably would have been no. Izuna wouldn’t have told him, wouldn’t have wanted to worry him.

He had been outspoken on many things, but he still had his secrets. In the days before his death, he had been hiding things from Madara. He would always see his brother with a few scrolls near the koi pond. Izuna had said he was training with Katon, but they didn’t look like the scrolls from the clan library.

There was a box full of those scrolls in Madara’s house. He hadn’t had the heart to go through them, so they had made the move with him untouched. He should look at them, he decided. Perhaps they would provide clues as to who wanted his brother dead.

“Madara?”

Oh, apparently Hashirama had asked him a question.

“Yes?”

“What do I do?”

For the second time that day, Madara found himself speechless. What would he do if it was Izuna? The answer was easy; he’d never let Izuna out of his sight ever again.

“Don’t let him out of your sight,” he said. He knew he certainly wouldn’t. He didn’t like the way Tobirama’s chakra had twisted when he had told Madara that he shouldn’t have given Hashirama a choice. The deep ocean of his chakra had deepened, _darkened_  and Madara had felt like he was immersed in immense pressure and was about to suffocate. Yes, he would _definitely_  be keeping an eye on Tobirama.

Hashirama was nodding when he snapped out of his thoughts. Madara darted a glance to Tobirama and wondered when was the last time he properly slept. It was quite dark outside. Hashirama could get him home without anyone seeing them.

“You should take him home.”

Hashirama nodded, rising from the desk and tiptoeing over to the wooden cradle. Gently, he gathered his brother in his arms. Tobirama didn’t even twitch, but Madara could feel his chakra curl around his brother. Izuna’s had done the same when he wanted comfort.

“We might not be in tomorrow,” Hashirama said. Madara nodded. His brother’s scrolls could wait. The village would need him.

Hashirama lingered by the door, mouth opening. Madara shook his head and waved him off. Everything could wait until tomorrow. They both needed time to think.


	19. Ghost Izuna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: implications of torture
> 
> I had a specific torture scenario in mind, but idk if it'll actually happen. If you've seen the rest of my work, you can probably guess what it is.

Tobirama deserved his ghost. He woke to angry Sharingan eyes staring at him from the corner of the room, went about his day to taunts of how he was losing his edge and fell asleep to threats about how he would never wake up. He deserved it all, he knew that.

The village whispered behind his back. He could hear them, often went unnoticed and faded into the background wherever he was. The ghost looked pleased by them, but Tobirama ignored it. He didn't need people thinking he was going mad on top of everything else.

Then came the mission.

He had been sent to steal a scroll for the daimyo. The ghost had followed but had mercifully stayed silent throughout. Things had gone well up until he had removed the scroll from the black chest in the far corner of the room.

Immediately, seals started to light up around the room. He tucked the scroll away, tried to run. The seals brightened, sapped his chakra. The ghost was laughing as the dark closed in. 

Time passed in long painful stretches. He didn't want to remember the memories, the way his skin ached after his captors left. Even the ghost had stopped making comments, had started looking angry.

He had apologized in one long stretch of time. He remembered telling the ghost that he regretted his death, that they could have been friends. That it should have been him who died instead.

The ghost had vanished then and his heart splintered. Even his enemy wanted nothing to do with him.

The next stretch of time had him apologizing to his brother.

 

* * *

 

The ghost reappeared when he was apologizing to Madara and for the first time, Tobirama called him by name.

" _Izuna_ "

Uchiha Izuna looked at him with angry eyes. There was no hate, no matter how hard Tobirama searched. There was no pity either to his surprise, just a blazing fire.

"Our brothers are idiots," he hissed. "They haven't even _noticed_ "

"Didn't tell them," Tobirama slurred.

Izuna snorted and a very detached part of Tobirama spared the energy to wonder how he did that without breathing.

"I _know_  that. I was there."

Around them, the cell echoed with Tobirama's harsh breathing. He couldn't feel anything aside from the way his spine pulsed with pain. He shifted, heard the rattle of a chain and saw white sparks in his eyes.

When he next became aware of himself, Izuna was grumbling threats. He ignored them. Izuna had been doing this ever since he started haunting Tobirama.

He made a sound and Izuna was there, reaching out a hand on reflex and sinking into his skin. He shuddered at the sensation. Izuna hummed and then there was the sensation of falling, of sinking into warm, distant fire.

"I'm getting you out," he heard Izuna promise and Tobirama knew he was imagining the words he heard next. "I forgive you."

* * *

 

Uchiha Izuna had forgotten what it was like to feel physical pain. His spine felt like it had shattered, was only being held intact by muscle. He could feel torn muscles and broken bones when he formed the signs for a Katon. The cuffs didn't react, which was a pleasant surprise.

The cuffs melted and he dropped to the ground, holding in the scream. Inside his head, in the quiet part of their currently shared mindscape, Tobirama stirred. Izuna stayed still, focused inward.

Tobirama's presence was muted and for that, Izuna was grateful. He had possessed him without asking after all. It also meant he couldn't feel the pain.

Izuna exhaled, carefully got to his feet and swayed. Ruthlessly, he crushed the anger that threatened to surface. It wouldn't help and would probably wake Tobirama.

He focused on the room and the hallway beyond instead, surprised when he could sense alert-lightning farther out. Was Tobirama's sensing active even in sleep? That was a useful skill to have.

He cast another Katon on the doorknob, watched it melt into slag. His hands hurt whenever he cast the Katon, but as Tobirama's nature was Suiton naturally his body wouldn't be used to Katon chakra.

He pushed the door open, cast his senses out again. It was quiet, empty with none of the precautions that Tobirama's status warranted. Anger sparked, he crushed it down.

He indulged in another breath, feeling his ribs ache, before stepping into the hallway.

* * *

 

Izuna had been dead, not blind, but even he had missed the way the village stared at Tobirama suspiciously whenever he walked its streets. Now, in Tobirama’s body, the stares were potent and he could hear whispers about broken demons and unfeeling hearts.

Once, he had been pleased by the whispers. Pleased that the village knew what a monster his killer was. But, then he had seen the way Tobirama refused to give up village secrets, had let his captors use him in ways that left him broken and then, he had apologized to _Izuna_. Had acknowledged him and confessed his regrets, confessed that the village would have been better off without him.

Izuna paused in the middle of a street, felt his legs throb, and breathed out the anger. There was nothing he could do about it, not with Tobirama’s body so damaged.

He closed his eyes, checked on Tobirama again. He was still asleep, though his chakra felt strangely shivery. Izuna let his own chakra spread over Tobirama’s, felt the shivery feeling ease.

A bright, earthy star brought his attention back to the world outside. It blotted out the rest of the signatures in the area and he could barely make out his brother’s own fire-ash chakra next to it.

_Madara_

Izuna had thought he was prepared to face him, but his stomach twisted at the thought. He wanted to run, but he wouldn’t get far on shattered bone. Instead, he took a breath, straightened as best he could and fixed his face into a blank mask.

“Tobirama!”

Hashirama flung himself forward and Izuna barely managed to dodge. His ribs hurt, were potentially broken and Izuna had seen the way his brother squeaked whenever the man hugged him; that would not be good for his current state.

He opened his mouth and the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t call him brother. The very idea was abhorrent. The man didn’t deserve the title and he wasn’t _Izuna’s_  brother.

He nodded instead, wincing inwardly as the motion pulled at his neck. Madara frowned at him, probably sensed that his behavior was off.

Izuna sighed. He’d spent most of his death following Tobirama around, but he had no idea how to act like him. Perhaps being injured would provide an excuse?

“Anja,” he said forcing the words past his lips. “Please stop trying to hug me.”

Hashirama pouted and Izuna frowned. He wanted to go home and sleep. The world was starting to blur and he had to blink several times to clear his vision. He couldn’t deal with Hashirama right now. How did Tobirama do this?

“But, Tobi! You haven’t been away on a mission this long before. I missed you.”

Izuna snorted. Clearly, Hashirama hadn’t missed his brother enough to wonder at what happened to him. He hadn’t even _looked_  and that was what made Izuna angry. Tobirama was his _brother_ , his _last_  brother. If it had been him who went missing, Madara would have torn the world apart in an effort to find him.

Water-lightning flickered curiously in that quiet part of their shared mindscape and Izuna got the sense of water stirring. He had to leave, had to get somewhere quiet and isolated before Tobirama woke up.

“I was captured,” Izuna said as calmly as he could manage. Some of the rage must have leaked into his tone because Madara tensed.

“I will tell you about it when I make my report,” Izuna continued before spinning on his heel and reaching for the nearest Hiraishin marker he could sense.

He vanished and appeared gasping in Tobirama’s house. The world was darkening around him and he barely managed to get himself into a somewhat comfortable position before it slipped away completely.


	20. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A most heartfelt thanks to [Peppymint ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppymint/pseuds/peppymint) for letting me play around with the concept of Devil's Breath and to [Miray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miray/pseuds/Miray) for inspiring this one.

The moon’s light barely penetrated the forest. Izuna cursed softly as he nearly tripped over a tree root and stumbled onto the bank of the river. The poison in his veins made his reactions slower and he fell into muddy dirt before he could stop himself.

He cursed again, touching his bandaged side lightly. It felt sticky, warm and he sighed. The healers had stitched it up, but he must have torn them.

He rolled onto his back, looked up at the sliver of moon in the sky and wondered why he was out here. He hadn’t wanted to die in bed, but he wouldn’t get to say goodbye to his brother either.

A deliberate snap of a twig directed his attention to the other side of the river. He got to his feet and looked into the horrified eyes of his killer.

“Come to finish the job?”

The horror didn’t change, deepened. He reached for his sword, drew it with shaking arms. The world blurred at the edges and he could feel his pulse slow. He wouldn’t have long, but he could put up a decent fight at least.

He channeled chakra to his feet, stepped out onto the river and the world spun, darkened. It seemed that the last thing he would see in this life was his enemy rushing towards him.

* * *

 

Izuna became aware of himself slowly. It felt like there was a mountain on him. He tried to lift his limbs, open his eyes, but all he could do was lie there and _breathe_.

It didn’t _feel_  like he was surrounded by dirt. There was a slight breeze that drifted across his skin and he could hear the distant sounds of someone moving about.

“How did it get _poisoned_ ,” Senju Tobirama muttered to himself. Izuna tried to tense, to jump, _something_. But his limbs were locked in place beneath the mountain’s crushing weight. He couldn’t move as his killer got closer, touched fingers to the side of his neck and hummed.

“Your pulse is still too fast,” he said. “But, it’s not as fast as before. That’s a good sign.”

He continued to speak about the wound and the process of draining the poison from it and Izuna had never respected his clan’s medics more. The process sounded complicated and why was Tobirama spending so much energy on it? Was he trying to _save_ him?

His awareness slipped away before he could contemplate it further.

* * *

 

“…. healed, but you’re not waking up,” Tobirama was saying the next time, Izuna became aware of him.

The mountain was still on him, still crushing. His body felt numb and he still couldn’t move a single finger or open his eyes. The breeze was still there, still light and teasing.

“I don’t want you to die,” Tobirama whispered and if all of his senses weren’t attuned to the man, Izuna would have missed it.

In the silence, Izuna’s curiosity grew. He examined their last fight. His Sharingan had captured it all, the way Tobirama’s eyes had widened as his blade sliced Izuna’s skin, his brother’s grief and the black shadow he had seen before the world had slipped away. That last bit seemed important, but Izuna couldn’t think why.

“You got rid of my nightmare,” Tobirama said and Izuna focused fully on him. His tone was full of relief, no hatred like he would have expected. What kind of father had Senju Butsuma been to make his children glad he was dead?

Tobirama didn’t say anything else. Izuna lay there and listened to the quiet sounds of movement, of papers shuffled, of ink being dipped into a pot and thought.

* * *

 

His former, maybe killer was brilliant. He’d ramble on to Izuna about the jutsu he was experimenting with, tell him about the plans for the village. The Senju and Uchiha had come to a ceasefire, were in talks to build the village that their brothers had dreamed of and throughout it all, Tobirama stayed with him instead of attending the necessary meetings.

“I don’t want you to die,” Tobirama had said during one of the stretches of time that Izuna was aware of and Izuna wondered if he was still worried about it. He didn’t know how long it had been; Tobirama had never mentioned dates during his ramblings, but it hadn’t been long enough for Tobirama to stop worrying about him.

Tentative fingers brushed his forehead and that was another thing. His former rival wouldn’t stop touching him beyond what was medically necessary. Izuna often fell back into the dark with the feeling of Tobirama’s fingers running through his hair.

“Madara misses you,” Tobirama said and there is a sharp inhale of breath. “I don’t know if I should tell him about you because what if-“

 _I don’t wake up_ , Izuna finishes and mentally urges Tobirama to keep it from his brother. There was no need to break his brother’s heart a second time.

“Butsuma would always call me by mother’s name,” Tobirama murmurs after a long stretch of silence. The mountain on him felt heavier than ever. Izuna strained against it, struggled to move even a single limb. He didn’t like where this was going, didn’t want to hear it, but Tobirama continued speaking.

“He’d pretend I was mother during the nights,” he confessed. “I don’t think brother ever knew.”

_No_

Izuna struggled harder and harder. It must have done something because there was a sound and Tobirama stopped speaking. His cold fingers, always _so cold_ , pressed against the side of Izuna’s neck. They stayed there for several moments.

“Why is your pulse fast?”

Inwardly, Izuna groaned. Could Tobirama _not_  feel his chakra? He’d heard rumors that the man could sense someone’s emotional state through their chakra, but obviously, that was wrong.

“I hope this means you’ll wake up soon,” he said. “Your brother needs you.”

Izuna wanted to wake up too, wanted to hug Madara and thank him for being his brother. Tobirama had mentioned Hashirama a few times, always in a wistful, lonely tone.

Tobirama.

Izuna hadn’t known what to think at first. His former enemy had healed him instead of finishing the job or letting him die by the river, had told him secrets, opened up to Izuna in a way that he probably hadn’t to anyone else.

Now, Izuna worried about him, worried if he was getting enough sleep since he always seemed to be awake when Izuna was aware of the world. He wondered if this was how Madara felt, if this was what it felt like to care for someone else, if this was what an older brother felt like.

Izuna _really_  wanted to wake up.


	21. The Past is Best Left Untouched 4

Tobirama woke to arms around him and froze. It was never a good day when Butsuma stayed the night. He would push Tobirama into more strenuous training, forbid Hashirama from healing him and would constantly look at him like he was the enemy. Tobirama hated those days.

He shifted in the bed, tried to slide out from underneath the arms. Sometimes, if Butsuma woke up and found him gone, he would be nicer. He would send him away to patrol, ignore him for the next few days. Then, one night he would appear in the doorway, call Tobirama by his mother’s name and it would start all over again.

The arms tightened and there was a sleepy mumble of his name behind him. Tobirama stilled, felt his heart rate spike. Butsuma had never called him by name before.

Automatically, he reached out with his senses and felt his brother’s sunshine-earth chakra curled around his. Oh, it was just Hashirama. Butsuma wasn’t here. He was safe.

Then, the previous day came back to him.

The remnants of sleep vanished as he remembered telling his brother and Madara about Butsuma. He didn’t remember anything beyond that.

A mumble behind him and then the sheets rustled. His brother’s face nuzzled into his shoulder and one of his hands dropped to clutch one of his.

“I can feel you thinking,” Hashirama said, voice hoarse with sleep.

There were many things Tobirama wanted to say. Unease swirled within him. Would his brother look at him with pity now? Would _Madara_?

“Tobi?”

“…. why am I in your bed,” he asked eventually.

His brother pulled away, just enough to let him turn around.

“You fell asleep on me,” he said. “I carried you home and put you in our bed. Mito slept on the couch.”

Tobirama felt his cheeks heat. He leaned forward, tucked his head into his brother’s chest and felt his ears heat too.

“She knows doesn’t she?”

Hashirama hummed in answer.

“Sorry,” he said. “I would have asked you, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

He thought about it, thought about how calm Mito was, how kind, how she would potentially react.

“I don’t mind her knowing,” he said eventually.

He’d prefer if no one knew, but it was too late now. Hashirama didn’t keep secrets from his wife and Madara would have most likely told Izuna. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but as long as no one treated him with pity it would probably be okay.


	22. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which no one is happy

The next time he became aware, there was screaming.

His brother’s voice, sounding angry in a way that Izuna had only ever heard once.

“How _dare_  you,” he hissed. “You had _no right_.”

“I didn’t want him to die,” Tobirama said sounding exhausted. It didn’t sound like he was getting enough sleep. He had mentioned Hashirama giving him non-essential paperwork in an effort to make him feel involved.

“They think I don’t want peace,” Tobirama had told him once, voice wavering at the words. For a horrifying moment, Izuna thought he might cry on top of him.

“I’m disappointed in you Tobirama”

Hashirama’s voice.

He pushed at the mountain on his chest, struggled to move. Cursed his limbs as they remained still. Tried to pulse his chakra to show them that he was here, _aware_.

He thought he felt an answering pulse, but awareness was slipping away again. He screamed in his head, made another effort, but the world outside dimmed and was gone.

* * *

 

The room had changed when he next became aware again. There was no breeze on his skin, no distant echo of movement, no voice narrating his day and telling Izuna about the village outside. Izuna didn’t like it.

“…. on a long term mission”

A voice caught his attention and he strained his senses to make out where the voice was. It sounded faint, distant. There were faint footsteps too, then the sound of a door opening. The footsteps grew closer until he could sense someone draw closer to him.

“Izuna”

His brother.

Madara took one of his hands and he could feel the touch as a dull, distant thing. Though Tobirama’s touch had always felt cold, it had been more present than his brother’s; though that could have been because of the talking.

“What did he do to you,” Madara whispered. He sounded pained and as much as Izuna wanted to wipe that pain away, he was also angry.

Tobirama had taken care of him. Patient in a way that he had never been on the battlefield. Had talked to Izuna like he could answer back, like he was more than a still body in a quiet room. Did more than just keep Izuna alive.

There was another set of footsteps. Hashirama probably. They stepped around them, to the other side. There was the shuffle of papers, of a hand checking the pulse on his wrist and the feel of someone opening his eyelids.

“There’s no response,” Hashirama muttered as he set Izuna’s wrist back down. “He’s healed from the wound, there are no drugs in his system that I could find, so there’s no reason for him to not wake up. My brother must have done something.”

“I went through his notes,” Madara said. “I didn’t find _anything_.”

He sounded disgruntled and Izuna would have laughed if he wasn’t so angry. He didn’t want to hear anymore. The mountain on him still wouldn’t move, so he turned his attention inward and tried to let the world slip away.

* * *

 

Time passed. His new room was more often empty than not and Izuna was lonely, bored. Before, Tobirama had talked to him and had rarely left Izuna in silence. Even if he wasn’t there, there must have been an open window or something, because Izuna could hear the faint sounds of the world outside.

His brother stopped by frequently, Izuna knew. He’d always take Izuna’s hand and sit there in silence. He was probably watching him breathe, feeling his pulse.

Part of him was grateful that Madara cared enough to visit, but he mostly wished his brother would _talk_. He wanted to know about his brother’s life, about the clan, about how peace was progressing.

Tobirama hadn’t been able to tell him much and Izuna had the feeling that they were shutting him out of the process as much as possible. He didn’t ever complain to Izuna about it, but he could hear it in the tone. The loneliness and shades of discomfort as Tobirama described finding out what new clan had joined the village from the grapevine.

Hashirama visited even less, always feeding his chakra into Izuna’s system whenever he did. Izuna wasn’t a born sensor like his brother or Tobirama, but even he could feel chakra when it was that close.

It felt wrong, invading roots that went wherever without care. Hashirama was gentle and made an effort to be as minimally invasive as possible, but Tobirama had been better. He had carefully reached out with his water-lightning to gently brush at Izuna’s own chakra, let him get used to the feeling before trying anything and always backing off at the slightest shift.

Izuna missed him, wondered where he’d gone. Madara and Hashirama never mentioned him beyond that one fragment that Izuna had caught the first time.

Izuna hated it, hated the fact that Madara and Hashirama didn’t realize he could hear them, hated the fact that he was _trapped_  in his own skin unable to move and react.

He pushed up against the mountain again and this time, he felt something give. A finger twitched. He fought harder. Another finger. Then a shudder and for the first time in a long while, his eyes opened to a dark room.


	23. Ghost Izuna 2

Tobirama woke to find himself lying on the floor. Carefully, he moved a limb, surprised not to feel cuffs around it. The floor was somewhat cushioned too, not too soft but enough.

 Then he became aware of the pain.

Every inch of his skin hurt. His ribs protested the act of breathing and he could feel the blood in his veins. Every beat of his heart pulled against the muscles in his chest and he clenched his eyes shut, tried to move.

Electric fire stirred in the corner of his mind. He turned his focus towards it. It was difficult to fall into meditation with the pain coursing through him, but somehow he managed.

He opened his eyes to find himself back by the Naka. He was standing on the riverbank, on the Senju side. The river was flowing calmly, though it picked up speed towards the edges of his sight.

There was movement on the other side of the river. A dark shadow covered in electric fire. The fire brightened as it got closer and he had to squint to make out his ghost’s face. Izuna stared back, frowning.

“How did we get here,” Tobirama asked eventually. He knew where they were, his mind, but he didn’t know _how_  they got here.

Izuna shifted, fire dimming. The only sound between them was the river, gently singing its way downward.

“You were captured,” Izuna began. He seemed hesitant, curled in upon himself. Tobirama wondered why. It wasn’t like anything could hurt Izuna anymore.

“I possessed you,” Izuna said in a rush, “took over your body and escaped. Brought you back to Konoha.”

Tobirama looked away, focused on the river. The world was spinning out of control, out of its established patterns. Izuna _hated_  him.

“Why,” he asked eventually.

Izuna stares at him for a long moment, then steps into the river. Tobirama startles, reaches forward to grab him. The feeling of electric fire is close, meshes into his own water-lightning. It’s not as invasive as he expected it to be.

Izuna grasps his hands and his touch is surprisingly warm for a ghost.

“I guess you didn’t hear me before,” Izuna said. “I forgive you.”


	24. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude with our favorite person

The daimyo's court was loud. Tobirama sighed at the bickering going on between the Kurama and Hyuuga clan leaders. It was a relief to know that his brother still trusted him, even if he did want him out of the way.  
  
He had told his brother the truth about Izuna, about trying to keep him alive and how, in the early days, he wasn't sure if he would survive. Madara's heart was already broken, there was no need to give him false hope.   
  
The bickering got louder and across the room, the daimyo's guards tensed. He ignored them, reviewed his own mental notes of the negotiations between Konoha and the daimyo. They had stalled in the past few weeks and he was here to, hopefully, get them moving again.

Next, to him, Uchiha Seto shifted slightly. He tensed, felt the edges of the fire-lightning beside him and wondered again if he was to be assassinated after the agreement was finalized.

“I don’t think we’re going to get to make our case today,” Seto said, sounding relieved. Tobirama frowned. Since his acceptance of the mission, he had been spending his days catching up on Konoha’s political situation.

Hashirama had reluctantly handed him the reports and scrolls and ushered him into the Hokage office. Though his brother had said that it was easier to keep him close to answer any questions he had, Tobirama knew that it was to keep an eye on him. He was barred from seeing Izuna, could feel Madara’s chakra constantly in the vicinity of the newly built hospital. There was a rotating Uchiha presence there too.

He focused on the present as the clans in front of them finally stopped arguing. The daimyo gestured them forward.

* * *

 

Negotiations were not going well. Even Seto’s stony façade had started to break as their days in the Daimyo’s court went by. He was currently watching the door as Tobirama poured over the agreement, trying to see if there was a way to make it more favorable to Konoha. It was a relatively minor agreement in terms of things, only discussing the prices of lumber.

He focused on it, tried to brush the thoughts of Konoha away. Would Izuna have woken up by now? Were they talking to him?

He had felt Izuna’s electric fire flicker and flare whenever he was talking about Madara. It had been muted, muffled somehow and he could only theorize that it was because Izuna was in a coma. Hopefully, Izuna was doing well. Madara would be spending all of his time with his brother, would probably keep him updated on the village and how well peace was working out.

His eyes flickered to Seto, facing forward and looking out the door. His chakra was always a seething mass of hate whenever he focused on Tobirama, but lately, it had been changing. There was something grudging in his demeanor now, something that almost seemed like respect. Odd.

Finally, after a long stretch of time, Seto clears his throat.

“Let’s go get lunch?”

Tobirama blinks at him and it takes him a long moment to realize that he is looking directly at Seto’s eyes. Seto blinks back, his eyes shifting briefly into the Sharingan. He had the Mangekyo, Tobirama noted as he studied the pattern of the tomoe. He wondered what Izuna’s pattern looked like. He had never taken the time to look on the battlefield.

Finally, Seto looked away. There was something strange in his body language, akin to fear but not. Tobirama frowned. He had probably unnerved him, that was all.

* * *

 

Uchiha Seto stared at the man picking at his food across the table. Senju Tobirama had blown all of his expectations out of the water when he had unflinchingly looked at Seto’s Mangekyo. In fact, he had seemed almost curious, had looked at it the same way he had looked at the trade agreement.

He turned back to his own food, took a bite of radish. It fell apart in his mouth, nicely spiced with a hint of broth.

Involuntarily, his thoughts turned to his orders. Seto had been given this mission not only because he had the Mangekyo, but because he was subtle. He was very good at making deliberate kills look like accidents and Madara, himself, had personally handed him his orders.

He wondered if the Hokage actually knew what he had signed.

“The daimyo is _still_  not convinced that Konoha wants to trade for lumber,” Tobirama said as he set his chopsticks down with a quiet click.

Seto nods. That had been the main sticking point in negotiations. Technically, Konoha had no need for lumber. Like everyone else, the daimyo assumed that their Hokage could supply all of Konoha’s lumber needs himself. Tobirama had been trying to persuade him that the Hokage was only one man and wouldn’t be able to do so.

“Perhaps we should increase the price we’re willing to pay,” Seto suggested.

Tobirama sighs, forehead creasing as he visibly recalls the specific wording of the agreement. Seto suspected that he had the entire thing memorized, a feat made more impressive by his lack of a Sharingan.

“We have increased it,” Tobirama said slowly. “We cannot increase it again. There’s a limit to how much Konoha is willing to pay.”

Seto nods. That’s reasonable. Konoha is still struggling to get on its feet, establish trade with the important factions in Fire Country. They would need to find another way.

Tobirama looked at his food again, pushed around the remaining rice and vegetables. His shoulders were tense. Seto didn’t think he’d ever seen the man look relaxed.

There were rumors about him, about how he was locked up in his labs trying to raise an army of the dead, about how he didn’t want peace because he avoided the Uchiha clan head. After spending the last few months with him, Seto could confidently say that the one about peace was false. Senju Tobirama worked for peace as hard as anyone else.

Seto had seen him examine the proposed agreement, editing it until late into the night. He had grilled Seto about the political situation, asking and _listening_  to his opinions, had offered to let Seto handle the negotiations himself.  

Seto knew the rumor about raising the dead probably wasn’t true either. Most of the Uchiha believed that Tobirama had resurrected Uchiha Izuna due to Aunt Uraraka’s unfortunate visit to the hospital. Seto knew the real story, however, was briefed after he had accepted the assignment.

He hoped Izuna lived, woke up; he was growing to _respect_  Tobirama and had no desire to kill the man, not when negotiations were starting to improve.

Later, he returned to his room and found a note left by a clan summons. It was written in Madara’s hand.

_Izuna woke up. Keep him alive. I want answers._

He smiled. It looked like he wouldn’t get a reason to use his katana after all.


	25. Hashi/Tobi - Hanahaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama is marrying Mito and whatever hope of a chance Tobirama had is gone.

It started with a tickle in his throat.

He had been watching his brother interact with the village children. They were braiding flowers into his hair. Hashirama, of course, loved it. He grew flowers for the children to use, sturdy daises and tulips, let them snap off stems and awkwardly tie them into his hair.

Tobirama’s heart gave its customary twist, but this time it was accompanied by a tickle. He ignored it. It was normal the way his breath would sometimes catch when he caught sight of his brother, normal the way his heart would stutter before resuming its regular rhythm. It always happened.

He coughed up the first petal at home, alone. It was red like his brother’s armor and he indulged in the strange impulse to set it aside. He placed it on his bookshelf and put it out of his mind.

The tickle in his throat got worse. His brother appeared in his office frequently, leaning over his desk to ask him some question or the other. As always, he couldn’t stop himself from noticing the way his brother’s hair shined in the light, the way his fingers moved when gesturing. His heart twists again and he pushes his feelings away, reminds himself that his brother would be getting married to Mito.

He coughed when his brother left. The feel of his brother’s sunshine-earth left him gasping and he folded over as something scraped at his throat. Petals filled his mouth and he spat out a flower.

White petals and a yellow center, it looked familiar. It was also covered in spit. He wiped it off with his shirt, set the flower on the clear corner of his desk. Ignored it. He didn’t need to know what it meant; it was probably something obvious, clear to anyone who knew how to look. He’d just have to make sure no one did.

Time passes and flowers continue to spill from his throat. He’s somewhat amazed that no one has noticed, but then again he spent most of his time alone.

His brother courts Mito and he sees them leaning into each other as they walk through the village. Something curls in his stomach, dark and angry. He pushes it down, smiles at them when they see him and continues on. His feelings have no place here; they never did.

That night, a purple flower speckled with pink dripped out of his mouth and onto the floor. Its edges were covered in blood. A morning glory complete with the stem and leaves. He should start putting his affairs in order.


	26. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (4)

Uchiha Madara knew he was going against his brother's wishes by signing the peace treaty. He did it anyway; it was best for the clan.

He hadn't _wanted_ to sign it originally, had given his best friend the choice in the hope that he'd just kill him. It didn't work. He had chosen to die himself and it was only Madara's hand on his blade that stopped him.

So, he signed it, held himself back from forcing provisions that would have forced Izuna's killer out of their village. Regardless of Madara's own feelings, he was still Hashirama's brother.

He didn't see Senju Tobirama for a long time after the final fight by the river. The man was avoiding him, the coward. Did he even _want_  peace? His clan didn't think so, neither did the Senju. It was the _only_  thing they agreed on some days.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as he reached the man's lab. Scowling, he pounded on the door. Hashirama should have been the one to do this, but unfortunately, he had a meeting. He had pushed the papers into Madara's hands and given him directions to the lab.

 _Why_  these papers had needed the Senju's signature was something Madara questioned heavily as he made his way there. They didn't give him any of the important village work. The Uchiha wouldn't stand for it and Hashirama himself didn't seem to trust his brother.

A very small part of Madara felt disconcerted at that; he ignored it. The Senju brothers' relationship wasn't any of his business and Tobirama was his brother's _murderer_.

"Senju," he yelled. "I know you're in there!"

He growled, inhaled deeply, hands already making the signs for the strongest Katon jutsu he knew. He didn't care that he'd burn the entire place down; it was well deserved.

There were rumors about Senju Tobirama's experiments. Some of the villagers had passed by the lab and had told stories of screaming, of smashing sounds, of rage. There couldn't be anything good going on in that lab and Madara would finally have proof.

* * *

 

The first thing he saw, once the smoke from his Katon cleared, was Izuna's body. It was surrounded by seals and tubes holding some sort of fluid. Then, Madara noticed the rise and fall of his chest.

The world _sharpened_. His eyes darted around the room. The Sharingan captured the whorls on the wooden walls, the scuff marks on the floor, the details of _every single_  seal that was surrounding Izuna.

Madara howled. Immediately launched another Katon at the man coming up to him. He regretted not bringing his gunbai, pulled out a kunai from his belt. He'd hack the Senju to _pieces_ , dump his body in front of the tower as a message to everyone; _this_  is what happens when you mess with an Uchiha's _family_.

Tobirama was speaking. He ignored him. There wasn't _anything_  he could say that would save him. His brother was _alive_. _Izuna_ was alive and had been _hidden_  from him, _experimented_  on. He lunged.

Madara didn't know how long they had been fighting. He was careful to keep his strikes _away_  from his brother, using his teeth instead of his kunai when they got too close.

A wall of wood burst from the ground separating them and he screeched.

"Do _not_  defend him, Hashirama! That is my _brother_."

His friend grabbed his hands. Madara clawed at him, saw the wood that wrapped around Tobirama and felt a vicious satisfaction that _he_  was the one getting Hashirama's touch.

"We need him alive," Hashirama said calmly. "We don't know what he's done to Izuna, so we can't kill him yet."

If Madara wasn't looking directly at Tobirama, he would have missed the subtle flinch. His face closed off, his body stiffened.

"How _dare_  you," he hissed. "You had _no right_ "

No right to keep his body from Madara, to not let him know that his only brother was alive. Madara _loathed_  him.

"I didn't want him to die," Tobirama said. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then Hashirama spoke. Madara grinned savagely at the words, at the way they sunk in deep, cut straight into Tobirama's heart.

"I'm disappointed in you, Tobirama."

He thought he felt a flicker of electric fire at the words, faint and _just_  on the edge of his senses. He tried to reach back, but it slipped out of his range.

He thrashed in Hashirama's hold, tried to claw himself free. That chakra had felt like _Izuna_.

* * *

 

Six months. _Six_  months since they'd found him in Tobirama's lab and Izuna _still_ hadn't woken up. 

He leaned against the door of Izuna's room feeling the rage boil up again. It boiled higher as he remembered that his target wasn't in the village, was on a long term mission to the Daimyo's court. 

He took a breath, exhaled slowly. He would have to go to the training grounds again, though he'd have to be careful not to decimate them this time. Aburame Shiori hadn't been pleased as Ground 5 had bordered their gardens and his Katon had unfortunately spread. 

He turned the handle, stepped inside and turned on the lights. His brother's eyes looked back at him, Sharingan activated and _open_. 

" _Izuna_ "

He stumbled to the bed, collapsed beside it, grabbed his brother's hands. His brother squeezed back. 

"You're awake!"

His fingers sought out Izuna's pulse, memorized again the steady beat. Izuna nodded, opened his mouth. Madara grabbed the glass of water that was always by the bed and pressed it to his brother's lips. Izuna swallowed and Madara tightened his grip on his wrist. 

He had to get a healer, but he didn't want to leave. What if Izuna fell back asleep and didn't wake up? What if this was the only moment he would get with his brother before Tobirama's machinations made themselves known? 

He couldn't leave; he'd send a summons instead. 

"Aniki," his brother said, voice quiet and slow. "I missed you."

He swallowed, put his brother's wrist on the bed and drew his brother into a hug. He felt him breathe against his chest. Some of the grief dissolved, the raging anger in his veins quietened a bit. 

"I missed you," Izuna repeated, pulling away after a long moment. "Even when you were with me I missed you."

Madara gave him a confused look, felt like he should apologize for something. He felt out of his depth. Izuna had finally woken up and he didn't know what to say. 

Izuna took a few more sips of the water, then let Madara put it back on the side table. He looked around the room, fisted his hands into the sheets. His shoulders tensed. 

Madara felt his stomach twist. Did Izuna know what he'd done? Know that he went against all of his wishes?

"I was aware you know," his brother said softly looking at his face, eyes searching for something. Madara looked back, tried to understand. 

"You didn't speak to me," Izuna said quietly. "You sat by my bed, took my hand and didn't say a word."

Madara swallowed as Izuna continued. 

"You and Hashirama both. Neither of you ever talked to me. At least if Tobirama had to leave, he left the window open and I could hear the village."

Rage sparked again at the name. Madara fisted his hands on his thighs. 

"Don't say his name," he growled. "He's the reason you were in a coma!"

Izuna glared at him. His hands shook as he swallowed. Madara could feel his chakra flare, lash out. 

" _He_ ," Izuna said in the coldest tone that Madara had ever heard from him, "saved my life."

He told Madara then, about how he had gone to the river to die. Told him about how he had woken up to Tobirama angrily muttering about poison, politics and terrible medics. About how Tobirama hadn't once left his side until he was _sure_  that Izuna wasn't going to die. 

"He stayed away from negotiations to make it easier for you," Izuna said. His eyes were focused on the sheets. His Sharingan was gone and he sounded older, tired. 

Madara felt the world twist under him, reverse until it felt like he was staring at an abyss. 

"He _liked_  me," Izuna said in a distant tone. It was the same tone that some of his aunts had used when talking about their families who had never come back from war. Abruptly, he realized that his brother thought Tobirama dead. 

His mind flashed back to the orders he had given Seto, one of the best killers their clan had. Hashirama had agreed that Tobirama was too dangerous to be left alive, had told him about a jutsu he created that used the dead as a weapon, had confided that his brother would have most likely used Izuna to further his experimentation. 

"He said I destroyed his nightmare," Izuna murmured and looked up at Madara with angry-sad eyes. " _He didn't want me to die_ "

Madara frowned. Izuna's story was completely different than what Hashirama had said his brother would have done. It matched what little he had heard from Tobirama before he had stopped listening and gone for his throat.

His frown deepened as he remembered Seto's reports about how Tobirama was solely focused on the agreement, about how he had _looked at Seto's Mangekyo_  and didn't even blink. He needed answers and there were only two people he could get them from. 

Izuna slumped back into the pillows, chest heaving. Madara slipped off the bed and rose. 

"I will get a healer," he said and pointed at his brother. "Stay awake"

He walked backward out of the room, kept his eyes on Izuna the entire time. He'd get Hashirama, watch him check his brother over and then, then he'd send a note to Seto. 

Later, he watched the hawk fly off with a small scroll in its talons and hoped he was doing the right thing. 


	27. A Lie on Fire

Uchiha Madara woke to the dark. There was something wrapped around him, digging into his back. He blinked, looking down to find that he was trapped in a wooden embrace. He growled, there was only one person who could do something like this.

"Hashirama"

A laugh, dark and throaty. Hashirama moved into his sightline, reaching out a hand to brush the hair away from his face.

"Don't worry Madara," he said. "I'll return you when it's done."

Madara frowned, tried to struggle, but there were flowers on the surrounding branches. They released something, pollen, poison, whatever it was made him pant. The world wavered, darkened at the edges and the last thing he saw was Hashirama smiling gently at him.

* * *

 

The Nakano flowed sluggishly in the hottest part of the summer. There was barely enough water in it to get his boots wet. He knelt, picked up a rock and flung it. It sank halfway through. 

There was movement on the other side. A rustle of bushes and then a flash of white hair. He drew his weapon, took a defensive stance. Senju Tobirama stepped out of the woods with his hands up. There was no sword at his belt and his skin was near-transparent. 

"I didn't come to fight," he said and every word seemed to be an effort. 

Izuna tightened his grip on the weapon, didn't move. Tobirama sighed, blinked slowly and sat down on the riverbank. Izuna scowled, activated his Sharingan and swept his gaze over the surroundings. There was no other chakra in sight, no genjutsu. Just Senju Tobirama sitting on the riverbank. 

Izuna looked closer; he almost seemed to be falling asleep. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Tobirama moved his head as if it were a heavy rock and looked at him with dull eyes. There were bags under them. 

"My brother is dead," he said flatly. "There's no point."

The anger left him breathless. Izuna was across the river before he knew it, blade already swinging to cut at Tobirama's throat. Tobirama dodged instinctively. 

"So's mine," Izuna snarled, "but you don't see me waiting to die."

Tobirama frowned at him, a flat line cutting across his face. 

"We didn't kill your brother."

Izuna gnashes his teeth together, turns on a foot and swings his sword again. Tobirama was _here_, a convenient target. Killing him wouldn't bring his brother back, but Izuna could destroy an enemy; there would be one less person on the battlefield who would hurt his Clan. 

Tobirama dodged him; he was fighting defensively and it's different than how he'd fought on the battlefield before. 

"Fight me you coward," Izuna said. He swung the blade again and it sunk deep into a log. 

"I think your brother and mine were murdered by the same person."

There was no change in Tobirama's tone. It was as if he was talking about the weather, but Izuna still had his Sharingan and he could see the minute tremble in his hands, in his throat. 

" _What_?"

Tobirama looked at him and it was as if he was looking _through_  Izuna, seeing someone else in the Uchiha's place. 

"Two clan heads die in the exact same way. That's not a coincidence."

Izuna was going to find out who the Senju spy was and hang them up by their _toes_. 

He tugged his blade free and stopped. Tobirama had a point. Coincidence was unheard of, not for something like this. 

"What do you propose?"

"A truce," Tobirama said immediately and it was the first time in this entire conversation that Izuna had seen him angry. "We combine our resources, hunt them down" - he grinned, teeth looking very sharp in the light - "your genjutsu will be useful."

Izuna found himself grinning too. 

"Agreed"

* * *

 

Far away, in a dark, damp cave, Madara stared aghast as Hashirama explained his plan. How he'd faked _both_  their deaths in hopes for peace. He didn't know what Tobirama's reaction would be, but Izuna had never dealt with grief well. His younger brother would tear the world apart, would obliterate the Senju, would turn against their own clan if they stood in his way. 

"You don't know what you've done Hashirama," he rasped as one of the branches tightened around him. 

Hashirama merely gave him a smile and Madara could see a flash of white behind him. 

"Everything will be fine Madara! There's no need to worry so much."

Madara swallowed and hoped the world was still intact when Hashirama deigned to let him go. 


	28. Hashi/Tobi/Mito - Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Hashi and Mito team up to seduce Tobi.

Konoha's forty-fourth training ground was sprouting trees. He stopped at the edge, watched green shoots sprout from the ground and rapidly thicken and grow. His brother was there, standing in the middle of it all and waving his arms about. Nature shifted with his movements, trees shuffling over to make room for smaller plants and clearings.

He swallowed at the sight. Shame burned through him, twisted up with desire until it left him breathless. The sensation of tropical surf tugged at him and he forced his face back into a neutral expression.

The grass whispered as Mito drew closer and he fought down a flinch when she draped herself over his back, her head resting on his shoulder. His brother was in the distance, oblivious to anything except the plants.

"He's quite beautiful isn't he," Mito said. Her lips were almost touching his ear and he could feel his pulse jump, settle into a fast beat. She _knew_ , he realized with a sinking feeling.

"Look at that," Mito continued, "the way his muscles flex with every movement. Don't you just want to run your hands over them?"

He swallowed. One of Mito's hands skimmed down his side, slipped under his shirt to rest just above his hip. It burned on his skin and he could feel his heart jump again, start beating faster.

"What," he whispered, throat suddenly dry.

Before them, Hashirama raised his arms and his shirt rose with them. A tan strip of skin appeared and Tobirama made a small noise as Mito laughed in his ear. Immediately, guilt seared through him and his heart twisted painfully in his chest. He tensed and Mito hummed before turning him around to face her.

The hand not on his skin came up to cup his cheek and Mito gave him a soft smile as he blinked at her.

"He wants you, you know," she whispered as she let the hand slip down to press against his chest. She pressed him down into the grass and he gasped, stared at her with wide eyes.

"We both do," she said and kissed him, nipping at his lips until he let her in. Her tongue licked into him, scraped against his teeth as her body settled on top of his. He could feel every curve of her. His skin felt too hot where they touched and when she drew back, he was left gasping for air.

"Mito," he whispered, managing to find his voice, "what?"

"Aww, Mito, why'd you start without me?"

His brother's voice. Loud and cheerful as he walked across the grass to join them.

Cold slipped down his spine and he stiffened beneath Mito, already reaching out for one of his Hiraishin seals. She looked at him, opened her mouth, but he was already gone.

* * *

 

Furious, Mito rose to face her husband. He had stopped in front of her looking bewildered.

"I almost had him," she hissed, stepping up to him to poke him in the chest. "You just had to open your mouth and ruin it."

Hashirama looked contrite. It didn't appease her any.

"You scared him off," she said, throwing up her hands. "Now, we have to start all over again!"

Her husband frowned and the grass drooped around them. She sighed, lowering her arms to press one hand against her forehead. 

"It's hard getting privacy in the village," she said. "We might not get another chance for a long time."

"I'm sorry," Hashirama wailed, clutching her close to him. Mito groaned but didn't fight the embrace. Her mind was already creating and discarding plans. Perhaps they could just trap their soon-to-be lover in the house and talk to him then. 

* * *

 

Tobirama appeared in his lab, panting for air. Guilt and betrayal twisted through him. The force bent him over and he gripped the floor as if it was the only thing in the world. He had thought that Mito _loved_  his brother. How could she betray him like this? Had he led her on?

He had thought that he was doing a good job of hiding it, trying not to sneak glances as they casually ate off of each other's chopsticks. They held hands in public, leaning against each other like they were the only two in the world and he had to look away to hide the yearning. 

Apparently, he had failed. 

Luckily, it was a busy time. He could just avoid them until they got distracted. Soon, with the introduction of the Aburame, there would be many. 


	29. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (5)

They were three days away from the Daimyo's court and Uchiha Seto had made no move towards his katana. Tobirama's eyes slid towards him, then away again. There was no river in this part of the forest, no large body of water either and the air was too dry for him to pull any moisture from it. It was a perfect place for his assassination.

"I still can't believe you talked the Daimyo into thinking about giving us exclusivity for missions," Seto said. There was amazement in his tone, had been there since before they had left the court. He forced the unease down, turned to regard the Uchiha with a neutral expression.

"I have plenty of practice with trade agreements," he said. "Often, I would be the one sent to negotiate for the Senju."

Surely, his brother hadn't forgotten? Their father had always sent him instead of Hashirama because he was less likely to instantly sign a trade agreement. The one time his father had sent Hashirama, they had wound up locked into an unfavorable agreement with the Fuma clan.

Seto hummed, eyes scanning the sky. The sun's light was slipping away, casting a soft orange glow on the trees. There was no wind today, so the temperature stayed mostly the same though he thought he felt it dip slightly as night began to set in.

"We should make camp," he said and wondered if tonight was the night.

* * *

 

Tobirama stared at the fire, back open to the dark. They had camped in a clearing surrounded by trees. There was soft grass dotted with flowers that glimmered in the firelight and above them, the sky was full of stars. A good night to die.

He stood and Seto looked up, raised an eyebrow. He waved a hand, gesturing for him to stay put as he began unbuckling his light armor. He wouldn't fight.

Sero made a startled sound as he neatly placed the armor aside, away from the fire. He didn't want blood on it and it would be of use to someone else. He removed his weapons next, several kunai and a few senbon. He didn't carry anything larger. No one had been comfortable with him carrying around a katana in the village, though many other shinobi did so.

"Senju, what are you doing?"

Seto rose just as he was setting the pile down next to the armor. He sounded alarmed. He probably wasn't expecting Tobirama to _know_.

Tobirama straightened up again, looked him in the eyes. Seto's Sharingan was active and he frowned slightly. He would have preferred to be remembered as he was, not some corpse.

"I know your orders," Tobirama explained and Seto's eyes widened. The Mangekyo spun and Tobirama met it with his own eyes, didn't blink.

"You don't have to trap me in a genjutsu. I won't fight you."

He knelt on the ground, still meeting his eyes.

"I'm a sensor; it wouldn't do any good anyway."

Seto made a garbled, choking sound and closed his eyes, breathing deep. He opened them, the Sharingan gone, and sighed.

"Get up," he said. "I'm not killing you."

Tobirama nodded. That made sense. Madara probably wanted the pleasure of doing it himself.

Seto stared at him for a long moment. The fire crackled next to them, sent smoke into the sky. Then, Seto groaned and turned away to rummage through his pack.

Tobirama had barely taken a step when Seto was pushing a small scroll into his chest.

"Read that"

He takes it, unfurls it and stares at Madara's stark handwriting.

_Izuna woke up. Keep him alive. I want answers._

He was to live for a little while longer. It didn't matter, he had gotten the best news of his life.

* * *

 

Seto was dreading the sight of Konoha's gates. The scene in the forest a week ago had rattled him. Even now the image of Senju Tobirama kneeling haunted his dreams.

He peered into the dark, ever conscious of the sleeping man behind him. His ears were alert to every shift of breath, every rustle of the bedroll. The trees whispered in the wind and somewhere in the distance, there was a faint howl.

They would see the gates tomorrow, tall wooden ones that would creak open and decide Tobirama's fate. He glanced back, took in his sleeping face and blinked. The breeze was a bit wet, perhaps it would rain.

* * *

 

Konoha's gates came into view and all Tobirama felt was hollow. The guards had spotted them. He could sense their chakra signatures fluttering. One slipped away in the direction of the tower, another towards the Uchiha compound and the last stayed where it was.

Next, to him, Seto was twitchy. His left hand kept drifting towards his katana before he changed the motion into a stretch. Tobirama gave him an inquiring look, but Seto shook his head.

He looked at the sky instead, wondered if this was the last glimpse of it he would get. There were a few clouds drifting across it and one of them looked faintly like a rabbit. A pang of nostalgia went through him at the thought. One of the happier memories of his childhood was lying on the grass and listening to his brothers point out shapes in the clouds.

Sunshine-earth, fire-ash, and electric-fire caught his senses. Hashirama, Madara, _Izuna_. He straightened, smoothed away his expression, reinforced the walls around his heart.

The gates opened with a creak, a rumble. Dust rose into the air. Then the sound of unsteady footsteps.


	30. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting Seto to become this prominent of a character, but he did. Also, prepare to die.   
> WARNINGS: some implications of when the csa began, also some suicidal thinking in this one

Uchiha Izuna stepped out of the shadow of the gates on wobbly legs. Behind him, his brother's eyes bore into his back. He kept walking, saw the surprise dawn on Tobirama's face and smiled.

There was a noise beside him and he slid his eyes sideways to see Madara staring at their cousin with a puzzled expression. He didn't turn, resolved to ask his brother what that was about later. His focus was on Tobirama, who reflexively raised a hand as he got closer.

He stopped just out of his reach, out of his space and waited. Tobirama's eyes darted over him, looked at all of his vital points, then darted up to his face. They didn't look away.

"You look well," he said and though his tone might have been neutral to everyone else, Izuna could hear the sheer relief.

Izuna activated his Sharingan, observed him in more detail. Tobirama didn't look away, looked _interested_  and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Seto bury his face in his hands with a sigh.

Curious, Izuna drew him into a genjutsu and Tobirama _let him_.

The world didn't change around them, but the eyes on them disappeared. Tobirama tilted his head to take in the sky and frowned.

"Why is the sky red?"

Izuna stared at him, then slowly looked at the sky. It was red as the Sharingan with no other colors showing; there weren't even clouds and it had been dusk when he had cast the genjutsu. He looked back at Tobirama, who was looking around curiously.

"Everything else is the same," he said, "except for the sky."

Izuna dispelled the genjutsu, absently noting that their brothers had stepped closer to them. Cousin Seto still had his face in his hands and seemed to be muttering about suicidal idiots. Izuna ignored them, stepped closer to Tobirama and slowly reached out to touch his face.

Tobirama tensed under his grip, eyes widening. He had aborted a flinch, too subtle to be caught by anyone else but Izuna still had the Sharingan activated. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was near-transparent. If the Sharingan could see through clothing, he knew he'd see his ribs.

"What have they done to you?"

Tobirama blinked at him, confusion flickering across his face for a second before it resumed its customary neutral expression. Beside him, Madara inhaled and Izuna jabbed him in the gut with his elbow.

"I was aware," he said slowly. "You knew"

"I suspected," Tobirama said.

Around them, the world was mostly silent. Leaves rustled, feet shifted and rope creaked from the weight of the gates. Across from him, Tobirama's breathing picked up. A slight speeding of breath that passed by everyone else, but Izuna had spent _months_  listening to this man, had learned to read emotion through even the slightest auditory change. He was apprehensive, probably wondering what Izuna knew, what he had heard.

"Yet you talked to me anyway."

He cupped Tobirama's cheek, rested his hand against the skin and held his gaze.

"You told me secrets," he said. "I think I know you better than anyone else now."

Tobirama flinched, violently and tore himself away from Izuna to stumble back. Izuna tramped down on the grimace. He was moving too quickly, but it had to be said. Their brothers had to _know_.

He stepped forward, wobbling. Immediately, Tobirama reached out a hand, already glowing green.

"You shouldn't be up," he said as he placed a hand on Izuna's shoulder. "When did you wake up? _Who_  let you out of bed? They're a terrible medic and shouldn't be working in the hospital."

Behind him, he could hear his brother's quiet, disbelieving whisper.

"Is he always like this," Seto whispered to Hashirama. He ignored the rest of their words, focused on the man in front of him. Tobirama was stiff, every muscle locked into place. He reached up to touch the side of his neck, felt the pulse that beat too fast under his fingers.

Izuna's other hand reached up to grip the hand on his shoulder, removed it to slide their fingers together. He took a breath, tried to convey an apology through his eyes and broke their world open.

"You told me what Butsuma did to you."

* * *

 

Senju Hashirama stared at his younger brother and felt the world drop out from under him. He could hear Izuna's voice, gently laying out all of his brother's secrets and wondered exactly when he had forgotten why he had dreamed of peace.

Izuna continued speaking and the words were unbearably loud. He wanted to shut his ears and turn away. He'd rather be back at war than listen to his brother's secrets be unwillingly spilled.

He stepped forward, ignored Madara's sudden grip on his sleeve and the way the Uchiha next to his brother placed a hand on his katana.

"Stop it," he snapped.

Uchiha Izuna looked at him with Sharingan eyes and he flinched, looking away. His brother's eyes flicked toward him and Hashirama couldn't read his facial expressions anymore, hadn't been able to read them since they were five and Tobirama had started withdrawing from them all. A thought struck him then and the earth under his feet, rumbled, cracked. He felt like the Earth just before an earthquake, like the forest on a moonless night.

He turned slowly, fully, to face his brother. Tobirama was paler than he'd ever seen him. The blueish green of the veins on his neck stood out starkly and the tattoos out on his face, looked like they were about to start bleeding. He stiffened further underneath Hashirama's gaze.

"When did it start?"

He couldn't recognize his own voice, full of splintering wood and sharp rocks. Tobirama took an unconscious step back and the wood splintered further until every small piece was lodged in his heart.

Tobirama replied. The rest of the words were lost in static as wood sprouted from the earth with sharp teeth.

"Why," he asked, voice quiet and so very small.

"You needed to know," Izuna said. His brother didn't say anything at all, just looked at him with expressionless eyes and an empty gaze. He stared back, helpless, finally aware of the bond that had been fully broken and wondered if he could even begin to fix things.

* * *

 

Tobirama woke to the whisper of angry, quiet voices and tried to remember how he got here. He had been talking to Izuna in front of the gates, but everything after that was a blur. There were flashes of wood bursting from the ground, a lot of yelling and a voice that cut through it all to enfold him in its red, spinning gaze.

"….not safe…."

He blinks slowly at the ceiling above him. It's made of dark wood and absolutely covered in small slashes as if someone had taken a kunai and marked it all up.

"You had to know!"

Izuna's voice and it sounded like a betrayal. 

He had known what Izuna thought of him. A rival, an enemy, but he had seemed so _happy_  to see him. For a moment, he wondered if the hatred was gone, changed into indifference, but then Izuna opened his mouth and he had his answer. 

They knew now and he knew that it would only make him look lower in their eyes. They wouldn't let him have a guiding hand in the village now, not when they knew how weak he was, how _broken_. His eyes felt wet and he brought his hands to his face, dug his palms into his eyes and tried to plan. 

He'd have to leave. He couldn't stay here, they wouldn't let him. Perhaps he could go to the Uzumaki? His suiton nature would be welcome among them. But, his brother was meeting the heiress soon and who knows what he would tell her. 

No, he couldn't go to the Uzumaki. Possibly none of the Elemental Countries would be open to him. His best option would be to find an uninhabited island and live out his days there. 

A thought came to mind, a whisper of plants, _poisons_  that acted quickly. He didn't have to live a life of isolation, not when there was another option. He followed it down to its inevitable conclusion. How would they react? Would they even _care_? 

A smaller whisper of a thought. Would his brother finally see him?

A knock startled him out of his thoughts and he sat up, just as Uchiha Seto peered around the doorway. 

He raised an eyebrow when he saw Tobirama, but stepped inside and shut the door. 

"How do you feel," he asked quietly. He stayed near the door, leaning against it with forced casualness. He was nowhere near the handle, Tobirama noted. 

"What happened?"

Seto swallowed, dark eyes flickering about the room. The voices downstairs rose again, followed by a sharp shushing sound. 

"You collapsed," Seto said slowly, "after Izuna -"

His hands clenched and his jaw was tense. Tobirama felt empty, wrung out, a rag thrown aside carelessly.

Awkward silence filled the room. He clutched the blanket tightly, fingers rubbing against the soft material. It was strangely grounding. 

"The healer said it was a case of exhaustion," Seto said finally. "You need rest, food and fluids."

The thought of food made his stomach twist. His appetite had been nonexistent and he barely remembered to eat unless someone reminded him. Often it had been Seto, though the servants in court had sometimes inquired if the food was to his liking. 

The voices rose again, almost audible. There was a crash, then the sound of a slap and the front door slamming shut. Across from him, Seto twitched. 

"They'll come to check on you," he said heavily and Tobirama nodded. He'd expected as much. He glanced towards the window, wondering who had stormed out. He'd thought he'd heard Touka's voice in the commotion, but that couldn't be right. Last he'd heard, she was on a mission to the Land of Lightning. 

He turned back to Seto, still looking at him with a worried gaze. Seto had been an enemy but had rapidly become an excellent colleague. If not for the fact that he'd leave the village soon, one way or another, they could have been friends. 


	31. Hashi/Tobi - Somnophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I tried writing Hashi/Tobi somnophilia. This is not my best work bc I wrote it real quick and it wasn't as slow and drawn out as I wanted it to be. But, whatever. Also, I will give my soul to whoever is willing to give _me_ Hashi/Tobi somnophilia. It's lonely being the only person who writes it.

Hashirama steps into the dark room and smiles. His brother is asleep, blankets thrown partially off and sliding to the floor. His bare chest rises and falls in a gentle rhythm and he doesn't stir as Hashirama steps closer, his footsteps audible. 

He reaches out and places a hand on his chest, sends charka into him. He's in deep sleep, will stay that way until morning. The drug worked. His brother wouldn't wake, not for anything. 

He looks down, resists the urge to bend and lick the pale skin on display. He'll have time for that. For now, he rises, goes to draw the curtains and light a candle. Its glow warms the room and he can see his brother properly in the light. 

He takes a moment to look. The brief glances he had caught during spars and baths had merely increased his thirst. His brother didn't like to be naked; it was too vulnerable for him. 

He bent to kiss slack lips. With his brother so still, he was free to lick in and explore his mouth. He traced his tongue on teeth, drew back to nip at his brother's lips before moving down to kiss his throat.

 Tobirama didn't stir and for a moment he frowned at the thought of having to do this when he was asleep. He wanted his brother to look at him and call his name, to grip him back and devour him. But, Tobirama had never looked at him in the same way and the night was the only time he could have him. 

He nipped at his collarbone, dug his tongue into the dip between it and the neck before moving down to kiss his chest. One of his hands came up to flick a nipple and his brother sighed. He froze for a second before darting a glance upward. Still asleep. 

He did it again. Flicked the other one and tugged them both until his brother was squirming underneath him. Then, he placed one in his mouth and sucked. His brother's mouth fell open and he heard a whimper. 

He did it again, hearing more of those sweet whimpers. He pulled back, teeth accidentally scraping skin. Tobirama made a high noise, jerked against him. 

Hashirama grinned, licked his lips and bit gently on a nipple. His brother thrashed against him, gasping. He did the same thing with the other, not letting up until Tobirama was bucking against him. 

He pulled back, took a moment to observe his brother's flushed face and the way he turned his face to pant harshly against the pillow. Then, he lifted the blanket and froze. 

His brother was naked, cock half-hard against his thigh. There was a vein on it, running from the tip to the pale hair above. He bent down to lick it, heard another gasp. 

Hashirama grinned against his brother's skin, scraped his nails down his sides and blew gently on his cock. It twitched, hardening further. He gripped it with a hand, swiped a finger along the tip. It came away wet. 

His grin widened as he stroked Tobirama's cock, grabbed more fluid and smeared all over. It made the glide easier and his brother's hips rose a little. He stroked downward firmly as he kissed the skin of his brother's hip. 

One of Tobirama's hands landed on his head, fell limply to the side. He heard another gasp; it turned into a moan as he licked the tip of his brother's cock. Then, he drew it into his mouth and sucked. 

His brother made another high sound, shuddered. He continued sucking, looked up to gaze at his brother's slack face. He was open like this, making more sounds than Hashirama had ever heard him make. Hashirama sucked harder, let his teeth scrape skin.

Tobirama jerked. His cock swelled, pulsed in Hashirama's mouth. He swallowed it all, let the salty taste linger on his tongue as he gasped for breath. His brother was limp against the bed, breath falling into a regular pattern. He hadn't woken and Hashirama was glad. He had a memory now. It would have to be enough. 

He rose, tucked his brother in and took one last look at his sleeping face before extinguishing the candle.  Then, he walked awkwardly back to his room and thrust his cock into his hand until he came to the thought of his brother's limp face as he came. 


	32. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (7)

Hashirama slumped on the table, brown hair covering his face. Across from him, Izuna tried to burn him with his eyes; he could swear his neck felt singed.

"It's not safe to leave him alone," Madara said, breaking the heavy silence that had permeated the house. He winced as his voice had sounded too loud in the silence, glanced up at the ceiling. A long moment passed without a sound and he continued on with the tea tray.

He passed a cup to his brother, set the other on the table and pushed it in Hashirama's direction.

"What," Izuna said, taking the cup. He sipped it, grimacing a little at the taste. His brother's tea always tasted a little burnt. Across the table, Hashirama muffled a sob in the wood.

Madara set the tray aside, taking his own cup of tea and gripping it tightly. Some of his hair fell into it; he ignored it, didn't bother to fish out the strands. He pressed his lips together, unsure of how to explain the way Tobirama's chakra had twisted, became the crushing pressure of water instead of its normal stillness. He wasn't strong enough to read emotions in chakra the way Tobirama was, but even he could feel the despair-betrayal coming from the man.

He took a sip of tea, let the liquid burn his chest and spoke.

"You betrayed his secrets," he said to his brother, "and now you're awake and healthy."

A flicker of chakra caught his attention. Fire-lightning heading in their direction. He strode over to the doorway, unlocking it.

Then, he turned to regard Hashirama with an unreadable look. Hashirama didn't look up, but his fists tightened on the table.

"You had to know," Izuna snapped before his eyes darted up to the ceiling.

Madara glared at him, hissing at him to be quiet. The door swung open and Seto stepped inside. He still had his katana strapped prominently to his back.

"Is he awake?"

No honorific, no greeting.

Somehow, Madara couldn't find it in himself to get angry. Not when his cousin might be Tobirama's only tie to the village.

"You can go up and check," he said and immediately, Seto pushed past him, heading for the stairs.

Madara turned back to shut the door when a pale hand thrust itself between the gap. Reluctantly, he opened the door.

Senju Touka stepped into the house. Madara held up a hand before she could open her mouth.

"Your cousin is upstairs, asleep. Izuna put him in a genjutsu yesterday; he'll be fine. He's just exhausted."

Touka glared at him, but then caught sight of Hashirama. She shifted her gaze, narrowed her eyes and drew a kunai from the pouch on her belt.

" _What_  have you done cousin," she whispered harshly as she stabbed the kunai into the wood, inches from Hashirama's hand.

Hashirama didn't even flinch, mumbled something into the wood.

Touka snarled, gripped Hashirama by the shirt and hauled him upright. His chair clattered to the floor She stared at him, too enraged for words and slapped him across the face. Then, she flung him away and stormed out. The door slammed shut behind her.

Madara winced. That would have woken Tobirama up. The man wouldn't be happy with _any_  of them.

He took a breath, another sip of his cooling tea and tried to think. Hashirama couldn't stay here. Neither could his brother. Both of them had hurt Tobirama quite badly. They couldn't be around when he appeared.

Neither could he, but this was his house. He'd have to stay if only to play host and nothing else.

Footsteps on the stairs. They didn't have long. He grabbed his brother by the arm, hauled up Hashirama by the shirt and tossed them outside despite their protests. He slammed the door in their faces and turned just in time to see his cousin walk down the stairs.

He arched an eyebrow, waited.

Seto shifted under his gaze. His eyes flickered upwards and then back to him. Madara stayed still. He wasn't the most patient person, but Izuna's coma had taught him the value of it.

His cousin pulled out a chair and dropped heavily into it.

"He'll be down in a few moments," Seto said. Madara didn't reply. There was more his cousin had to say.

Seto took a breath, another glance at the stairs.

"I think he's suicidal"

Madara winced. It was a confirmation of his fears. He opened his mouth to speak, but there were soft footsteps upon the stairs.

_Tobirama_

* * *

 

Hashirama stepped inside his house with fear. He saw Touka's sandals next to the door and it intensified. Tobirama was her favorite cousin and she would have _words_  with him.

"Good," Touka said, appearing in the hallway. "You're home"

Every syllable dripped with disdain.

He winced, taking off his shoes. Touka snorted, shaking her head and sending a lock of hair flying.

"You are a _fool_ "

He didn't say anything, _couldn't_  say anything. He was rooted to the ground like one of the trees and Touka was the storm trying its hardest to bring him down. It would be easy; his roots were shaky.

Touka laid into him, talked about every interaction he'd had with his brother. Pointed out all the ways in which he could have done better. He took it all, each word striking true and by the end of it, he was on the floor bleeding out.

Touka stepped over him, didn't look back and walked out his house barefoot. Her last words still rang in his ears.

"Nothing you can do will fix this. _Nothing_ "

* * *

 

Uchiha Seto strode through the village, glaring at anyone who dared look at them. Tobirama followed him, kept his eyes on the ground. Rumour was already flying around the village. Even now Seto could hear the whispers.

They stopped at an intersection to let a cart pass by and pointedly, Seto placed a hand on his sword. The whispers halted then quietened and Seto gritted his teeth.

He turned towards Tobirama who hadn't looked up every since Madara had assigned Seto to watch him. He didn't like this mission any more than the other one Madara had given him and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to have a different clan head.

He didn't really have an idea of where they should go, but he knew they needed to get out of that house, away from Madara, from _Izuna_.

"I'm sorry you got stuck with me," Tobirama mumbled and Seto frowned, tightening his grip on the sword. After a moment, he let go. This wasn't the kind of problem that can be solved with violence, though it would have made things much easier.

He stayed silent for a long time, mulling over his words carefully.

"I like you," he said eventually. "Your hard work in the Daimyo's court showed your dedication to peace. You saved my clan head's brother, a former enemy. That is commendable. "

Tobirama looked up, opened his mouth and Seto could see the denial in his eyes. He held up a hand.

"Truly, it is no hardship to be ordered to spend time with you. I would have done so regardless. My only regret is the circumstances. "

Tobirama still didn't look convinced and Seto knew it would take time. These were wounds he didn't know anything about. He would have to do some research if he didn't want to overstep any boundaries; he didn't want to be like Izuna.

The cart's wheels gave another creak and then the road was free. They continued on their walk.


	33. Hashi/Mada/Tobi - Somnophilia (tw: drugging)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure what the au is, but it's dark Hashi I know that much XD And again, this did not turn out how I wanted it too since I was hoping to draw it out more. :(

Hashirama stepped inside, quietly. He knew his brother wouldn't wake up. The drug saw to that, but he still felt the need to be quiet. The night breeze smelled of lilies, moved through the room and ruffled his brother's hair. He moved around the room, ignoring his brother for a moment, and lit the lamps until the room was bathed in soft, warm light. Then, he turned and merely looked for a long moment.

Tobirama was sprawled out, in the position Hashirama had left him in, with legs parted wide and arms at his sides. His clock was shrunken, limp, but there was a dark spot against the sheets and wetness on his thighs. Hashirama stepped closer, bent to part his brother's cheeks. There was fluid still dripping out of him and Tobirama didn't even twitch as he withdrew.

He grinned, reached up to trail a hand across his brother's chest. Tobirama shifted, pressed in a little to the touch.

"You're so good for me," Hashirama murmured into the night as his hands trailed upwards, fingers pressing against his brother's neck. Tobirama shifted again, head falling to the side. It left his neck bare and Hashirama took the invitation, bending down to nip at the pale skin.

"You know who else has been good, Tobi?"

A shadow moved in the door and Hashirama beckoned it forward as he took of his shirt. Madara stepped into the light, dark eyes flickering to the bed before looking at Hashirama.

"You've been good this week, Madara," Hashirama said as he stepped forward to caress Madara's cheek. His touch moved upwards until he slid a hand into Madara's hair and tugged gently on the strands. Madara hissed, tiling his head back and nipping at whatever skin he could reach.

Hashirama laughed, releasing him and undoing his pants.

"You deserve a reward," he said and Madara's eyes slid to the bed before he yanked them back to focus on Hashirama. His smile widened and he slid into the bed, slipping his hands under his brother's shoulders and arranging them so that Tobirama was in his lap, legs wide open, back arched and head resting on his shoulder.

Madara was focused on them, eyes very dark. Hashirama reached down, grabbed a handful of his brother's ass and lifted it out of the way. Immediately, Madara's eyes snapped to Tobirama's hole, still leaking.

"He's already prepared for you," Hashirama said "You can just sink in."

Madara stepped forward. Tobirama's breath was soft against Hashirama's neck, steady. He couldn't wait to hear it hitch, dissolve into harsh panting and moans. Madara had stopped, taken off his clothes and was just standing there, riveted.

Hashirama grabbed his brother's other cheek, lifted it out of the way so that Madara had a better view of Tobirama's hole.

"Take what you want"

Madara stepped forward, cock already hardening and bent to press himself against the bed. Tobirama gasped sharply, body twitching. There was a wet, squelching sound and Madara drew back with moisture reddening his lips. Tobirama was shaking in his arms and Hashirama grinned, bringing up a hand to pull on one of his nipples.

Tobirama gasped again, pressed back into him and when Hashirama looked down, he could see Madara's cock pressing into Tobirama.

"Good boy"

He nuzzled white strands, watched Madara thrust in and out as Tobirama shuddered and gasped between them. He mumbled nonsensical words, fragments of their names and Hashirama could feel himself harden at the thought of Tobirama dreaming about them. Was he dreaming about them fucking him? Could he feel it, Madara sinking deep into him and dragging himself out slowly?

Tobirama settled some as the thrusting continued. His cock was still limp, too tired to even rise and he gasped for breath against Hashirama's neck.

Madara reached down, ran a palm along the length of Tobirama's limp cock and he whimpered, face scrunching up in displeasure. Every inch of him was limp, slack with sleep and exhaustion.

Madara thrust in again, letting go of Tobirama's cock as his own pulsed, spilled deep inside. Tobirama made a quiet sound, shifted again as if trying to get away. Hashirama shushed him, whispering endearments until his brother quietened, settled. Then, he looked at Madara and smiled.


	34. An Invisible Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's implied torture in this one, though it's vague. Also, turns out I like Seto more than I thought I would, so he shows up in this au too.

This deep in Fire Country, the forest was thick. Right now, it was covered in morning mist and Izuna cursed softly as he activated his Sharingan to look through it. Immediately, the forest sharpened and that dark shadow he had been observing for the past hour turned out to be a man.

Izuna drew his sword, tensed and waited. The man swayed, stumbling forward as he tripped over tree roots. Izuna's eyes narrowed before abruptly widening as the man stumbled out of the mist and he got a good look.

The man's red eyes flickered before he abruptly collapsed with a faint squelch into the mud. Izuna stared. Senju Tobirama had been missing for three long months and here he was, stumbling out of the forest only to collapse, undignified, into the mud at Izuna's feet.

Izuna swallowed hard, bending down to press his fingers against Tobirama's neck and feel the faint pulse. He was alive, but not unhurt. At this angle, Izuna could see purple bruises on his neck. They disappeared into his shirt.

Izuna sighed, gripped Tobirama under the arms and hauled him upright. Tobirama groaned, eyes fluttering weakly as he tried to gain his footing. He slumped back down when Izuna let him go and mumbled something. Izuna didn't bother to listen, mind already figuring out next steps. He'd have to get him back to the village, alert his brother. The Hokage would have to know too.

He took another look at Tobirama and bend to haul him over his shoulder. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just leave his rival here to the mercy of the forest. There were too many questions he had to answer.

* * *

 

The village was slowly waking up around him as Izuna strode towards the tower. It was a short walk from the newly built hospital to it, but Izuna still chafed at the distance. He had left Tobirama in the care of his cousin Seto, one of the Uchiha's best assassins but also the most trustworthy. His cousin didn't like Tobirama, but he'd ensure the man was kept alive.

He reached the tower and the guards jumped out of his way. One of them scaled the walls, probably going to warn his brother that he was in a mood. The village still hadn't forgotten what had happened to Training ground 3.

He kicked the door open and took the stairs at a rapid pace. People dove out of the way as he passed, the air nearly scorching with his presence. Finally, he stepped into a hallway with a single door at its end.

Mokuton branches were already crawling up the door, solidifying into a barrier. Izuna growled, hands already making the signs for a Katon as he inhaled. He finished his signs and exhaled gently. The fire streamed out, hot enough to burn the wood, but controlled enough that it _only_  burned the door.

He kicked it down, rushing in to grab Hashirama just as he was about to leap out of the window.

"I found your brother"

* * *

 

Izuna hadn't even gotten a chance to explain the circumstances before Hashirama was dragging him to the hospital. Seto looked up when they entered, nodding at Izuna and bowing to the Hokage. Izuna grinned. His cousin was always so formal with those he disliked.

Hashirama didn't say anything, eyes riveted to the bed. Tobirama had a bandage around his head and another wrapped around his shoulder. It was already turning red.

"The healers said there might be brain damage," Izuna told him quietly. He decided not to mention that they had found traces of drugs and genjutsu. The healers were still trying to determine what the drugs were and what the genjutsu was used for. Hashirama was too impulsive to trust with those details just yet. He could read the report once it was written.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Hashirama moved to the bed. His hands were glowing green and he gently placed them on a patch of unmarked skin. Tobirama made a small sound, tried to twist away and something uneasy curled in Izuna at the sight.

If Tobirama's sensing was anything like his brother's, then the man should have known that Hashirama was touching him. Madara had always known it was him whenever he had tried to sneak up on his brother, so why was Tobirama trying to get away?

Hashirama moved back, frowning. Izuna didn't like the look and traded an uneasy glance with Seto, who deliberately placed a hand on his katana before letting it fall to the side. Subtly, Izuna shook his head. Hashirama wouldn't hurt them, probably.

Hashirama reached for a stool, dragged it to the side of the bed and sat down.

"I'm staying here," he said, turning to Izuna. "Will you tell Madara?"

Izuna nodded.

"He'll come find you," he warned. He'd have to warn his brother about Hashirama's mood, tell him to tread carefully. Already, there were vines climbing across the window and solidifying into branches.

"That's fine," Hashirama said distractedly, reaching out to take his brother's hand. Tobirama twitched, tried to curl up into himself and abruptly, Izuna wondered if genjutsu could fake chakra signatures. Another thing to ask his brother about.

He nudged Seto, jerked his head to the door and his cousin slipped out silently. He cleared his throat.

"I'll take my leave then"

Hashirama gave a faint hum, not seeming to hear him. Izuna hurried out, letting the door close softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, looked away from the door, and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly, then used shunshin to get to the compound.

* * *

 

He found Madara in the garden, soaking his feet in the Koi pond. Izuna grimaced, remembering the times his brother had thrown him in there and he had swallowed pond water before coming up for air and spitting it out in his brother's face. Hopefully, Madara wouldn't throw him in the pond this time.

"Aniki"

Madara looked up and immediately frowned. He rose, feet dripping onto the grass and dusted himself off.

"What happened?"

For a long moment, Izuna was silent. The wind whispered through the trees. The village was a soft murmur in the background and he could not find the words to describe the enormity of his morning. Madara was still silent, looking at him with a deepening frown.

"I found Tobirama," Izuna blurted and really, that was all he needed to say. Immediately, Madara pulled on his sandals and headed in the direction of the hospital. He didn't toss questions at Izuna, just walked grim and silent into the building and through the halls until they reached Tobirama's room.

When they open the door, Tobirama was awake and backed into a corner with a stool in front of him. He was shaking, eyes wide and face pale and clammy. Hashirama was on the other side of the room, equally pale.

His eyes slid over to them when the door opened and he sagged.

"He's _afraid_  of me," he said without any prompting and as Madara stepped fully into the room to hurl questions at him, Izuna realized he should have probably switched shifts that morning.


	35. An Invisible Cage 2

Cold air hit his skin. There was wood at his back, smooth and unlike the cell. There was water in the air too and he pulled it out, used it to create a wall. The figure stopped, though its voice still called his name. It sounded like his brother, but it wasn't. He held onto the thought, had held onto it ever since he sensed the chakra being woven.

Reflexively, he pushed back against it. He wasn't expecting it to give. It never had before. The drug had made him too weak to fight against it. But now it gave and he growled, staring into red eyes with black tomoe that swirled into a pinwheel.

He blinked and blinked again. His captors didn't _have_ red eyes. Only _he_ did. They also didn't have black tomoe in them. Only the _Uchiha_ did.

He focused more fully on the man in front of him. Wild black hair, the typical Uchiha features and fire-ash chakra that sparked with agitation. He had been aware that his captors faked chakra signatures in the beginning, but they had never been able to fake the Sharingan patterns.

"Madara?"

* * *

Madara blinked as Tobirama calmed upon seeing his Sharingan. His shoulders relaxed and he took a small step away from the wall. It's odd and it made something in Madara twist. Tobirama's chakra was still a churning ocean, but one with a veneer of calm cast over it.

He turned his head, kept one eye on Tobirama, and tried to silently communicate to Hashirama. His friend, of course, didn't understand and stepped forward. Immediately, Tobirama tensed and backed up. If he were a cat, he'd be hissing, Madara thought idly as he turned to glare at Hashirama.

" _Leave_. Your presence is not helping"

"But"

Hashirama tried to step forward again, but Izuna grabbed his arm and dragged him away. Mokuton burst from the ground as Hashirama tried to stop himself from being dragged off and Madara turned back to Tobirama, just in him to see him violently flinch and plaster himself to the wall.

"Stop it," he mumbles, having seemingly forgotten about Madara. "I'll be good"

Behind Madara, everything stopped. The world was silent except for the sound of breathing and Tobirama's quiet mumbles. Madara himself felt frozen.

"What," Izuna whispered and Tobirama did not seem to hear him, "the _fuck_?"

Madara wanted to say the same, wanted to stay clueless, but he had a suspicion. Something he'd read once in the clan records about a clan with genjutsu that entrapped an Uchiha.

Abruptly he turned, grabbed Hashirama's other arm and started dragging him away.

"Izuna, watch him. Hashirama, you're coming with me to search the clan records."

He ignored both of their protests and dragged his friend out. The door closed behind them.

* * *

Izuna turned back to the shaking man in front of him and wondered what to do. Madara's Sharingan had calmed him down before. Perhaps his would do the same. He stepped closer, let his Sharingan activate and spin into the Mangekyo. Tobirama paused, blinking.

"Hey," Izuna said softly. Some of his cousins had reacted this way before and he remembered his aunts talking softly to them. He was too young to fully understand why they were describing their surroundings but he understood now. It was a way of grounding them, letting them know they weren't on the battlefield.

"You're in the hospital," he continued. "The walls are made of wood, the same as the floor"

He continued in this manner until Tobirama very quietly said his name. Izuna focused on him, noting the way he was looking around warily and wondered again about faked signatures.

"You're real," Tobirama said finally.

Izuna flashed him his best grin and hoped his next words would be enough to reassure the man.

"Aww, you've dreamed of me. That's so sweet!"

As Tobirama relaxed further, he knew it had worked.


	36. The Past is Best Left Untouched - Branch 3 (8)

He does not want to go home. Is it even home anymore? He had hardly ever been there, spent most of the time in his lab watching over Izuna. He pushed the thought away and focused on the bowl in front of him.

Seto had dragged him out to eat again. The Uchiha always insisted on feeding him and that hadn't changed, even after knowing his secrets. He stirred the broth slowly, feeling Seto's eyes on him.

That was another thing. His gaze didn't feel like the rest of the villagers. Concerned where suspicion normally was. He could feel eyes on them; they burned into his back and he didn't have to turn around to know that they were judging him.

He took a sip of broth. It seared his chest. He took another.

The ramen tasted like ash and the air like suspicion. It was a familiar feeling, but he had quickly gotten used to the Daimyo's court where the suspicion wasn't particularly directed at him.

For a moment, he felt irrationally angry. At his brother for sending him away, at Izuna for spilling his secrets, at Seto who was just there and at himself for ever believing that things could change.

He put the chopsticks down with a clink, pushed the chair away and stood up. He could stop his blood, make his heart burst in his chest and the only sign would be purple bruising. It would be so _easy_.

"Tobirama?"

Seto had risen too, watching him warily. His hands were nowhere near his blade and that only made him angrier.

He took a breath. Everything hurt suddenly and he _did not_ want to be here, here in this village that had caged him with suspicion. His chakra rose, a sudden tsunami and his hands flickered into familiar signs.

There was a Hiraishin marker on the edge of the village and when he blinked, he was stumbling past the walls and into the forest. Nightshade was a fairly common plant in this part. He'd be able to find it easily and well, he wouldn't be anyone's problem anymore.

Soon, he found a patch and plucked a few plants. It would act quickly and no one would find him for quite some time. He could do one good thing by feeding the animals his body.

A sound caught his attention, a quiet footstep and the deliberate snap of a twig. The familiar feel of fire-ash coated his tongue. He turned, suppressed a sigh.

"Madara"

The Uchiha's eyes narrowed and he scowled at Tobirama. He didn't make any other movements and Tobirama was pathetically grateful. So many people had touched him in the past few days and his skin felt odd like it wasn't his own.

"What are you doing here," Madara asked. He was carrying a basket; it was filled with berries.

Tobirama blinked at the berries. Why was a clan leader out here in the woods gathering them like a small child?

"I wanted some peace," he said finally. "There were too many eyes in the village."

Madara hummed. His dark eyes flicked down to the plants in Tobirama's hand and back up to his face. Tobirama didn't shift under the scrutiny, no matter how much he wanted to.

"And those?"

He didn't have to point at the Nightshade for Tobirama to know. He held the plant up so that the purple, bell-shaped flowers were visible. They glimmered green as he turned them.

"I like flowers"

Madara raised both eyebrows and stepped forward to snatch the plants out of Tobirama's hand. He flung them over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact.

"Do you think I was born yesterday?"

Tobirama sighed. It didn't seem like he would be getting rid of Madara anytime soon. But why was he angry? He would have been out of Madara's way soon enough and Madara wouldn't have to waste energy on him anymore.

Madara's scowl deepened and he grabbed Tobirama's arm. Tobirama startled, tried to twist away. Madara's grip tightened.

"Let me go"

"No"

Tobirama clawed him, but Madara didn't flinch. In fact, he didn't even seem to register the fact that Tobirama's nails had broken skin. He started to drag Tobirama in the direction of the village. Tobirama dug his heels into the ground, threw his weight backward. Madara tugged him again and Tobirama thrashed in his grip.

Butsuma had done this too, the first few times. Tobirama had fought him, not understanding, but Butusma had always snapped at him to be quiet. He had said the name of Tobirama's mother and it had always been enough to shock him into silence. Eventually, Tobirama had stopped struggling and just lay there limply, letting Butsuma drag him out of bed and to his room.

_No. Not again_

Tobirama turned his head and bit one of the arms that were wrapped around him. His teeth met cloth and there was a ripping sound. Madara's grip slackened from surprise.

"Did you just _bite_ me?"

Tobirama didn't bother answering, gripped Madara's arms, twisted and threw him against the nearest surface. Then, he bolted.

Madara groaned, pushing himself away from the tree and rubbing his head. He stared at the broken branches in front of him numbly.

"Shit"


	37. An Invisible Cage 3

Hashirama followed his friend into the Uchiha archives. He glanced around, eyes still seeing his brother flinching away from him.

Ahead of him, Madara stopped, muttered softly to himself as his hands brushed the scrolls. Hashirama stopped too, bumping into his back. Madara ignored him. His mumbling turned into soft cursing as he pulled out various scrolls and let them drop carelessly to the floor. Hashirama winced. His brother had trained him out of that habit; he could still remember the feeling of walking around in wet clothes all day long.

"It's not here," Madara said tossing another scroll to the side.

"What are you looking for?"

Madra pressed his lips together and hummed.

"Old clan records," he said slowly. "Anything that mentions the Kurama clan. I distantly remember reading a report once about one of our clan members getting put under a genjutsu by a painting."

"A painting?"

Madara nodded, pulling out another scroll and unrolling part of it. His eyes skimmed the text, but then he tossed it aside like all the others. Hashirama stepped forward, reached out to touch a scroll and stopped.

Madara rolled his eyes.

"I need a second pair of eyes. Why else did you think you were here?"

Hashirama sighed, but picked up a scroll and unrolled it. It seemed to be a recipe for dumplings. He set it aside, picked up another one.

They spent hours in the archives. At some point, someone had stooped by with food and had glared at them until they set the scrolls down and ate. Then, they had gotten back to work.

The hours passed and the pile of scrolls got higher and higher. Hashirama rubbed his eyes as Madara groaned and tossed another scroll onto the pile.

"What if we don't find anything?"

Madara paused, scroll dangling limply from his fingers.

"Are you giving up," he asked quietly.

His brother's face flashed in his mind, eyes wide and panicked. _Someone_ had done that to him, had made him so afraid of Hashirama that he couldn't bear to be in the same room.

"No," he said quietly and picked up another scroll.

* * *

Izuna had been with him all day. Tobirama was not complaining though he did wonder why. It was easier to remember where he was when he could just glance to the side and see Izuna's sharp features, feel his electric-fire chakra. Izuna wasn't looking at him, was focused on the reports that one of his cousins had dropped off earlier.

The room starts to blur and a bright bloom of purple appears in his vision. Immediately, he shut his eyes. He focused on his breathing, felt the beat of his heart, stretched his senses out until all he could feel was the background hum that was the world.

There were chains on his wrists and every time he shifted, they clinked softly. His knees hurt. His muscles ached. He couldn't look in any direction except straight and he didn't want to see the purple-red of the painting in front of him. It hurt his eyes.

His breathing picked up. His heart thundered in his ears. The world brightened. There was heat on his eyes.

He felt jittery as if his blood was a rampaging river in his veins. He tried to slow his breathing, calm his heart, but the world kept getting brighter and brighter. His eyes snapped open and bright red caught his gaze. It bled from the painting, reached for him and he tried to twist away as it splashed onto him.

A faint call of his name, a blaze of warmth on his shoulders and he was looking at a red expanse spotted with black. Unlike before, this was the color of old blood and as he looked at it, he could see its edges. He wasn't in the cell, staring at the painting. He was in Konoha, in the hospital, staring into Izuna's eyes for the second time.

Electric-fire strummed across his senses as he broke the gaze to glance around. He was on the bed, Izuna in front of him. There was sunlight on his skin and he turned his head to look at the window. His neck hurt. It was evening.

Izuna was silent, watching him. The electric-fire still blazed around him and he let it take up his senses, ground him.

"What happened? There was a painting"

Izuna frowned, eyes turning back to black.

"There is no painting."

He frowned. He knew that. There was no painting here, but there was one in him, taking up nearly all of his senses.

"I can see it. I can smell the paint."

He could taste it too, the thick slimy feel of it coated his throat. He swallowed, pushed away the nausea.

Izuna's eyebrows drew together.

"There _is_ no painting."

He scowled and turned away to stare out the window.

"I _know_ that. It's in my head."

Izuna hummed as if that made sense. For a genjutsu user, it probably did. Tobirama didn't know how to explain it, the way it took up all of his senses, drew his attention at random times, how he couldn't stop looking at it.

He clenched his fists in the sheets. Outside, a flock of birds flew overhead.


	38. A Song for the Lost (MDZ crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I can't stop writing things with the Past AU backstory which is why this particular snippet is in this collection. 
> 
> MDZ - Mo Dao Zu Shi
> 
> Also, idk anything about either Japanese or Chinese, so don't read too much into this.

The manuscript came to him through a merchant that had been passing through one of the villages near the Senju Compound. The writing had caught his eye as it was familiar characters but ordered in ways that didn't make any sense. There were also diagrams that appeared to describe strange seals. It was from Chugoku the merchant had told him, a distant land across the sea.

The merchant didn't try to talk up the price, probably because the language appeared to be gibberish, but he was sure he could figure it out. A jutsu perhaps? The characters looked similar enough to Kotoba that he could probably figure out something.

He bought the manuscript, along with some other books written in Chugokugo. They'd provide him with a good starting point and perhaps they'd be useful in other ways.

He spent hours pouring over the books. Eventually, his brother came to drag him out of the labs.

"I'm glad you found something interesting Tobi, but you can't stay in there all day," his brother had said when he had used his Mokuton to block the entrance of his lab. "It's not just the plants that need sunshine!"

Tobirama rolled his eyes but conceded.

* * *

It had taken him a year of starting and stopping before the texts were finally translated. The war had gotten in the way and Tobirama had found that his heart was no longer in fighting. His brother's deaths were still fresh in his mind, but the texts proved to be an excellent distraction whenever the memories got to be too much.

The texts spoke of cultivation, a process of growing spiritual energy through both physical and mental means. It was similar to to the way ninja were trained and he spent many an hour comparing the two. He would have loved to learn more, but then the war picked up.

He forgot about the texts for a long time. The Senju were losing. Each day, less and less of their number came back and he spent many an evening pouring over treaties in the archives.

Then, one day, his brother died. Strong, gentle, _idealistic_ , Hashirama stabbed in the gut by Madara's sword. He cursed himself for not learning to heal. Though he didn't have the talent, it would have still been useful.

"No more deaths Tobirama," his brother whispered as he pressed on the wound with red hands.

"Anija"

"Don't blame Madara," his brother gasped and as always his thoughts were with the Uchiha.

Tobirama nodded, half-formed words getting stuck in his throat. There was _so much_ he wanted to say, but now was not the time. He would never get the time.

"We will have peace, Anija. I promise you"

But his brother didn't hear him, pulse already gone.

* * *

There was something growing out of his brother's grave.

He stepped closer and set the sake, his brother's favorite, down next to the stone. He peered at the soil. A small shoot was poking its head out of the soil. It was just like his brother to grow things even in death.

He sat down next to it, uncapped the sake and held it up in a toast.

"To you Anija"

He took a gulp and then set it back down. Unlike his brother, he didn't particularly _like_ the taste of alcohol. The only time he partook was during official ceremonies.

He took a deep breath. This part of the compound was quieter than most, though the rest of the compound had been quieter in recent years. The Senju's numbers had reduced drastically.

He had tried for peace, but Madara had never responded to him. He didn't know what the Uchiha had done with his letters, but he never sent them back. He hadn't seen the Uchiha on the battlefield either, but Izuna had gotten more ferocious. Without his brother's Mokuton, the Uchiha were able to overtake them quickly. They'd always been better with the sword than the Senju.

"I came to say goodbye, Anija," he said eventually.

Out of desperation, he had returned to the Chugokugo texts. After months upon months of reading, he had finally been able to fully translate the manuscript. Written by a Wei Wuxian, it described a ritual to summon a spirit to fulfill one's wish. The price was his body, but for peace, it would be worth it.

He continued speaking to the grave. This was the last time he would ever see it, so he said what he could have never said before. Eventually, he ran out of words and simply stared at the grave.

The air grew cool as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon. A few lights appeared like faint fireflies. The rest of the Compound was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD I've gotten distracted by MDZ amongst other things so all my ideas have run kinda low


	39. A Song for the Lost 2

He awoke with his head pounding and body aching. There was a throbbing feeling in his left wrist and he automatically brought it up to his face. There was a large cut that spanned the length of his forearm. His arm was also paler than he remembered his skin being.

_Have I become a fierce corpse?_

That couldn't be it. He could feel his heartbeat. Fierce corpses didn't _have_ heartbeats.

_Did I steal someone's body? I never thought I would sink that low._

He sat up and his eyes caught the array on the floor. It was one of his, albeit badly drawn. It was nothing against the writer, but many of the characters were wrong or misplaced. He was surprised it even worked.

He glanced around the room. There was a piece of paper in the corner with neat characters written upon it. He got to his feet, wincing as his body let out another throb. What had this person been doing before the ritual?

He stumbled over to it and picked it up. The characters didn't make any sense.

_Meat, heaven, discourage_

He put the paper down. He clearly wasn't going to get anything useful from it.

_Am I in the body of a lunatic?_

* * *

The place he found himself in was strange. It was large and empty with strangely designed buildings. They were straighter than the ones he'd seen before and had little to no decoration. The lantern style was different too, smaller with no tassels.

He picked a random path and walked along it. The surroundings were quiet, though he could hear the faint sounds of water. The sun beat down on his skin. It ached and he could see it start to redden.

_Huh, it seems like this body can't take too much sun_

He looked around, then ducked beneath a nearby awning. The redness on his arms had deepened. They were burnt.

"Ahh, I should be more careful"

His voice sounded different. Deep and old, his words were tinted with an accent he couldn't place. It wasn't Gusu or Langling or any of other cities he was familiar with. He really needed to find out where he was.

Just then, he heard voices. He frowned, ducked behind a conveniently placed barrel and strained his ears in the hopes of picking up something. He caught a few words, but like the note, none of them made any sense when strung together.

"Mountain …… explanation ……. seaweed …… height"

As he listened to the words, made up of familiar sounds, something dawned on him. Perhaps he was _not_ in Zhōngguó at all!

He leaned against the barrel. If he _wasn't_ in Zhōngguó, then where was he?

The cut on his arm throbbed as if reminding him of his presence. He needed to figure out what his summoner's wish was, otherwise his soul was forfeit. If only he knew how to do that.

* * *

That night, after he had made his way back to his summoner's room, he dreamed.

He was young, rushing through a large forest and leaping from tree to tree. He was looking for someone.

"Brother, _brother_ where are you?"

The wind rushed past him, carried the scent of the forest. He couldn't feel his brother's sunshine-earth anywhere. He jumped to another branch, stretched out his senses. The background hum of the forest was still there; he pushed it away with ease.

A flare from the southwest. Sunshine-earth spilled out into the world. He cursed softly, twisted his body and changed direction. His brother must have been experimenting with Mokuton again. Father would be pleased.

His stomach twisted at the thought. His father's happiness never boded well for him.

_"Look at our son, how proud I am"_

He shook his head angrily, banished the thought. Perhaps he could delay on finding his brother. The forest was nice and they weren't needed for a while yet. He could take some time to himself.


	40. A Song for the Lost 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casual reminder that this is a crossover with Mo Dao Zu Shi, so if nothing seems to make sense, that's why.

His woke with a strange feeling in his chest. It was not quite warm and not quite cold. He got up with a groan. His body still hurt, but the world seemed clearer than before.

The dream had been strange. It was almost like a memory, but none of it had ever happened to him. The strange language was in it too, but in the dream, he could understand it.

Abruptly, he got to his feet, nearly tripped over the sheet he had tossed aside and scrambled to get the note. The words still didn't look familiar, still didn't make sense….no, there was a phrase at the bottom of the note:

_fulfuil my brother's wish_

He frowned it at, narrowed his eyes as if squinting would suddenly make the rest of the note clear. Nothing changed.

He dropped the note with a sigh, slumped on the desk.

_So my summoner wanted to fulfill his brother's wish. What a good brother he was!_

He wished his own relationship with A-Cheng had been like that. But, A-Cheng probably hated him now. It's not like he would find be able to find out. He _still_ didn't know where he was!

* * *

Time passed and slowly he started to piece together the strange language. His dreams helped too and it was as if he was _remembering_ how to speak. He might have known this language, Kotoba, in the past. His memory was terrible.

_No one has come looking for me yet_

He was in the forest, hunting. There were tools in his summoner's house, traps to catch rabbits, knives to skin animals and even a large sword. He didn't look at it. It looked too much like Suibian.

Carefully, he set the trap then settled himself on a nearby tree to wait. His thoughts turned back to the house and its surroundings. It was too big, not made for one single person. But, he hadn't seen any signs of someone else, just a few locked rooms.

The dreams hadn't given him any clues, just flashes of a tanned, cheerful man and angry hands calling him a different name. It wasn't his summoner's. He didn't know how he knew, but the name had felt wrong. He had kept waking up from those dreams shaking and unable to go back to sleep.

A snapping sound.

He lept from the tree, landed lightly on the ground. There was a squirrel in his trap, too small to be a proper meal. He groaned, slumping to the ground.

_Rushing water; a blade coming towards his head; black eyes that bled to red with a strange pattern swirling in them_

He blinked, felt the strange energy in him. It wasn't this body's golden core. It felt different, closer to that of a restless spirit. What if…..what if he wasn't alone?

It was true, the body could remember things, but he didn't think _language_ was one of those things. The dreams were vivid, too vivid with details that he knew he had never come across. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the tree and turned his focus inward.

_"Hello?"_

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, there was the sharp feeling of irritation, disgruntlement and the sensation of a door slamming in his face. It was a very clear message: go away.


	41. A Song for the Lost 4

Banked darkness and fire swirled at the edge of his senses. He ignored it, focused on the calm hum of the world instead. Whatever happened now didn't matter. Either the spirit would fulfill his wish or it would be torn apart.

He tried to sink back into the dark, blend himself back in with the world, but there was a tugging on his senses. The fire-dark flared, crashed against his walls and he could dimly hear someone yelling at him to wake up. Why would he want to? His brother was dead and soon the rest of the Senju would be too. He had done a desperate last maneuver with no way of knowing if it had worked. There was nothing left for him.

The fire-dark surged again, pushed harder against his walls.

 _"Go away,"_ he yelled at it.

There was a very long pause, then the sensation of being dragged. The world whirled and when it settled, he found himself on a dock.

He looked around. It was day. There was an elaborate gate up ahead of him and as he turned he could see that the water was covered in lotuses. There was noise around him, lyrical tones that he couldn't make out. He frowned, wondered what he should do, what kind of dream this was.

There were light footsteps and he turned to see a tall man descend the stairs. The man was taller than him, clad in black and red robes in a style he didn't recognize. His hair was as long as his brother's, bound with a ribbon, though two dark strands fell on either side of his face.

Grey eyes looked at him with surprise before the man smiled.

"Ah," he said. "You must be my summoner"

The voice was light and airy. It strongly reminded him of his brother, though Hashirama's voice had never been this relaxed around him.

"Who are you?"

The man blinked at him, then quickly took the last few stairs to step in front of him. He had to bend a little to look him in the face.

"Ehh, you summoned me without knowing who I am?"

He scowled, crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back.

"I wanted someone who could fulfill my brother's last wish. The ritual didn't seem like it required a name."

But, he had been thinking of one. He'd been thinking about Wei Wuxian and what had led him to create a ritual such as this. He had a suspicion and there was one way to find out.

"Wei Wuxian?"

The man, _Wei Wuxian_ , smiled and placed his closed right fist into his open left hand and bowed.

"Hello," he said. "I am Wei Ying. Courtesy name, Wuxian"

He bowed back.

"Senju Tobirama"

Wei-san frowned at him and he spared a moment to wonder exactly _how_ he had understood the other man. He had spoken in those same lyrical tones that Tobirama had heard earlier.

"Do you not have a courtesy name," Wei-san asked, frowning at him.

He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing.

"That's not a custom we have," he said slowly. "We show formality through the use of honorifics."

Strangely, he knew what Wei-san was asking. Though the term was unfamiliar, the meaning of the word came through. A personal name for close family and friends and a more formal name for everyone else. What did that make them? They _were_ sharing a body if his suspicion was right.

"Senju Tobirama," Wei-san said. His name sounded awkward on his tongue as if he was testing out the syllables. He frowned at the sound.

"Just call me Tobirama"

Wei-san blinked at him. His confused look shaded into a frown and Tobirama wondered if he could sense the meaning of the name without any attachments. Did their connection work both ways?

Wei-san hummed, stepped up to the edge of the dock and stared into the water. Tobirama wondered what he saw, whether it was Tobirama's features or his own.

"You can call me Wei Ying," he said eventually. There was _something_ important about that, but Tobirama couldn't grasp it. Then, Wei Ying whirled around to face him, eyes bright.

"Hey, since you're here, you can tell me your wish. I couldn't read your note _at all_ "

Tobirama had forgotten about the language difference, too caught up in grief to even realize that whatever spirit he summoned may not speak his own tongue.

"My apologies," he said and gestured for Wei Ying to sit down. It was a long story and they might as well be comfortable as he told it.

They sat down on the edge of the dock, feet dangling in the cool water. Tobirama could feel fish nibbling at his toes.

He began with the history of the Senju and the Uchiha, about how they had been one clan once and then had split. No one knew why, but there was an argument between two brothers and each had founded their own clan. Then, those clans had started fighting soon after their deaths. Rumors said it was because of inheritance, though no one knew exactly what the inheritance was supposed to be.

They had fought for centuries on and off, then in a relative period of peace, he and his brothers were born. Soon after, the war started up again. Uchiha Tajima had accused the Senju of murdering his youngest sons.

"I don't know if we actually did," Tobirama muttered, focused solely on the water in front of him. There was a fly landing on the surface of a lotus and the fish were still nibbling at his toes. He took a breath, picked up the thread.

Senju Butsuma, his father, had denied this of course, but the war started up again. He and his brother, Hashirama, were quickly pushed into training. It was then that his brother discovered the Mokuton, the ability to control wood.

At this, Wei Ying had interrupted.

"You can control wood? I have never heard of cultivation being able to do such a thing."

That had led into a brief discussion about the difference between cultivation energy and chakra before Wei Ying had asked him to continue his story.

Tobirama told him about his brothers, about their deaths, about Hashirama's secret meetings with the enemy.

"He wanted peace," Tobirama said. "He was planning a village with Uchiha Madara."

Then, his brother had died, the Senju were losing and Tobirama had turned to demonic cultivation in the hopes of summoning a spirit to fulfill his brother's last wish.

"He had asked for peace," Tobirama said. "I sent messages to the Uchiha asking for a ceasefire but they never responded. I alone wasn't going to be able to fulfill Anija's wish, so I used the ritual."

Wei Ying was silent for a long time. The lotuses swayed in the wind, the fish nibbled at their toes and still, Wei Ying did not speak. Eventually, as the sun began to set over the water, Wei Ying heaved a sigh.

"You've got the wrong person," he said. "I always caused chaos when I was alive. I made everything go wrong and people died for it. I have walked a dark and twisted path and in the end, it tore me apart. I cannot help you fulfill your brother's wish. I'm sorry."

Around them, the world was silent. The fish had stopped nibbling at their feet and even the flies had left. The water was still, placid with the moon's reflection cast upon it.

"Where are we," Tobirama asked eventually.

There was something in this place. Deep pain that permeated every inch of it. He could see it in the way that Wei Ying focused on nothing

"Lotus Pier," Wei Ying said quietly. "It used to be my home."

Tobirama hummed as he stared into the dark. There were no stars in the sky, though there was a large moon that loomed over them. The dock was warm underneath them, swaying a little.

So, Wei Ying could not help him with diplomacy. He should have expected this outcome. There were so many things that could have gone wrong with the ritual, so many things that _did_ go wrong. He had been desperate enough to try something completely untested and these were the results.

But, it wasn't _all_ terrible. He was still here, no matter how much he wished he wasn't and Wei Ying seemed smart. Between both of them, they should be able to figure something out.

They sat there long after the world had darkened and the moon's glow had dimmed. The lotuses whispered in a breeze and their feet grew cold in the water. It was peaceful, quiet and he hoped they'd get more moments like these.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. If anyone wants to talk story ideas in depth, hit me up on [Dreamwidth ](https://idraax.dreamwidth.org/) or [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/writingfish) where you can be on anon.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Brother](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914452) by [Lilili_cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilili_cat/pseuds/Lilili_cat)
  * [Letters that Uchiha Seto Never Sent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926515) by [Lilili_cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilili_cat/pseuds/Lilili_cat)
  * [Dream softly through the night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761562) by [Kael_Vercorian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kael_Vercorian/pseuds/Kael_Vercorian)




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